Relationship Status: It's Complicated
by crackberries
Summary: Welcome to highschool, where stupid is the only thing more prevalent than hormones.
1. Chapter 1

**AN:**

I was fully all "oh let me finish Correspondence and Vodka + Roses before starting anything new" then candy4yourEYEZ sent me this plot bunny of hers.

Because spontaneity and putting off things is key within my life, I decided to just go ahead and write this.

Well guys, another first for me. I don't write stories set in highschool, or that revolve around high school. I have to heavily edit this story, because since it's a highschool setting and I'm a highschooler, my voice sorta seeps in sometimes, and well...it's not too appropriate :P

LET'S GET THIS AU GOING yeah

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Hetalia (hence why I'm posting on _fan_fiction) and the general idea/title belongs to candy4yourEYEZ. All the stupidity in between belongs to me.

**Warnings:** It's a story about highschool boys. Also, derogatory slurs.

* * *

**Relationship Status: It's Complicated**

Chapter One

* * *

Sixteen (going on to seventeen) year old Matthew Williams is an ordinary boy living an ordinary life.

Today, like every other day in said ordinary life.

At exactly 6:30 am, his alarm rings, jolting him out of a usually mundane sleep. Extremely irritated at the fact that he has to yet again go suffer at school, Matthew throws his alarm across the room, and flops his head back onto the pillows as he hears the satisfying thud of the alarm against the wall.

Ten minutes later, Matthew remembers that his alarm is no longer that crappy old excuse for a gift someone had gotten him for his seventh birthday, but instead, is his brand new touch screen phone that he spent four months saving up for. Swearing under his breath, Matthew shoots out of bed to retrieve said phone, hoping that it's not damaged. It's not, except for a small chip on the screen that seems infinitely bigger in Matthew's eyes, which are sleep-deprived from texting all night on said phone.

Now that he is awake, Matthew decides to head down for breakfast, and hopes that he doesn't run into his mother's flavour of the week, a big burly man who goes by the name Rupert. Last time he ran into Rupert, it was last night while the guy had his mother bent over the kitchen counter. While it was not the first time he had walked in on her, Matthew still was uncomfortable looking a man with a very graphic Tweety Bird tattoo on the ass in the eye.

Thankfully, Rupert is not in the kitchen. Unfortunately, the remains of the night before are. Matthew decides that it is better to starve than go ten feet within the used condom on the floor, and turns on his heel to trudge back upstairs, pretending that the messy birth control was _not _bright pink.

By the time Matthew is upstairs, he has received around eight text messages from his friend, Alfred Jones, asking him where the hell he is. Wondering why the hell Alfred would be waiting for him so early in the morning, Matthew proceeds to smell various clothes that he has rescued from his laundry basket, throwing on the ones that do not smell like weed or stale pancakes.

It is then he realises that he has not changed the time on his phone, and it is actually around 8:00 am, twenty minutes past the time he is supposed to meet up with Alfred outside his house and ten minutes before school starts. Alfred, who had heard about the Rupert story last night, is too scared to come and ring the doorbell, and too lazy to make the phone call, is bitching via text messages to Matthew for getting late.

Cursing the daylight saving time, Matthew grabs his backpack and his rain coat and dashes down the stairs. This time, he _does _run into a hairy, half naked Rupert, which serves to only quicken the speed at which he hurls out the door.

As he makes it out onto his front lawn, he trips over a huddled mass lying on the dewy grass.

"It's about time!" Alfred whines. "I had to eat my lunch while waiting! You owe me a burger at lunch."

Matthew rolls his eyes and drags Alfred off the grass and they run to school. Despite all his effort to keep up with his inhumanely fast best friend, Matthew receives a bitch-slap from Alfred for the detention they get from their anal-retentive teacher upon arriving late to first period English.

They spend lunch together, because aside from the fact that they do it every day, Alfred has forgotten both a lunch and his lunch money, therefore needing someone to mooch from.

"If you spend more than thirty bucks this time," Matthew warns during lunch, as he hands Alfred his debit card. "I will make you throw up whatever you eat, then make you eat it again."

Alfred simply grins, and takes this as a challenge. Matthew eyes him wearily, before stalking off to the washroom of the McDonald's that they spend every single lunch, since Alfred wants to die of a heart-attack before 30.

When Matthew comes back, Alfred is sitting in a booth with approximately ten burgers, and a happy meal on the side. Matthew begins to plan revenge upon Alfred as he looks at the bill the blond happily presents.

It is a normal day.

* * *

Then it is third period, and Matthew is yet again, late to class.

He knocks on the door, hoping that this time, Mr. Romeo Vargas will take pity on him and not make him do fifty push-ups for coming ten minutes past the bell. Though Matthew is a complete hockey monster who is completely capable of doing fifty push-ups, Alfred forced him to eat three burgers during lunch, and Matthew is sure he will puke all over the floor.

However, he is not alone. Ten seconds after he knocks, another student collides into him, with an "Oh fuck, am I late?" and a string of colourful swear words. It is Gilbert Beilschmidt, one of the 'popular' students of the school, who sit at the back with the other two cool kids of the class throwing spit balls. Which usually land in Matthew's hair, since he is one of the keeners that sit at the front of the class. They are usually followed by a completely insincere apology, but Matthew doesn't mind because the fact that his crush of the past few months bothers to talk to him is enough.

Mr. Vargas opens the door, and gives Gilbert a look that shows that he is definitely not impressed. Contrary to popular belief, Mr. Vargas rather values punctuality. Except for meetings with the staff, where he barely comes on time, just to irritate the school principal.

Matthew, grateful for once that he is semi-invisible in the school population, sneaks by and settles into his seat, which is at the front and centre of the class.

Hey, World History _is_ his favourite subject.

"Williams!" Mr. Vargas barks. "Don't think I didn't see you!"

Matthew groans inwardly. Of course, the only times when he isn't invisible to most of the school population is when it serves for his best inconvenience.

"I'm sorry sir." He mumbles. "Won't happen again, promise."

Having heard this excuse a million times already (after all, he teaches in a high school, where bullshit is the only thing more prevalent than hormones), Mr. Vargas orders Matthew to get down on the floor and give him twenty-five. He is being merciful towards Matthew, mostly because he sees the slight green that tinges the teen's face and assumes that he has spent yet another lunch with Alfred Jones, the human vacuum. Gilbert, on the other hand, gets a detention, where he will have to spend an hour after school, listening to Mr. Vargas rant about the fall of Rome.

While Matthew struggles not to throw up all over the floor, Mr. Vargas continues talking about the assignment.

"As I was saying before we were rudely interrupted, this project will be on going. You and the partner you have chosen will have till mid June to complete all the components listed on the handout. Yes Beilschmidt?"

"I don't have a partner."

Indeed, Francis Bonnefoy and Antonio Carriedo have partnered up, leaving Gilbert behind. And any chance of Gilbert getting them any good German beer from his dad's cabinet for the upcoming party.

"I'm aware, Beilschmidt." Mr. Vargas says, as if Gilbert has stated the most obvious thing in the world. Which he has. "Neither does Williams, so you two are going to partner up."

No one notices as Matthew slightly sputters and face plants into the ground, because Gilbert whines,

"But how come _we_ don't get to choose?"

"Beilschmidt. Look around. See all these people partnered up?"

"Yes?"

"None of them waited for you. Or even _offered_ to partner up with you even though you were absent."

Gilbert leans back and sulks, while Matthew slides back into his seat, trying to prevent his mind from running too fast.

Mr. Vargas continues to talk about the project, for which they will get a period every two weeks to work on in class. The rest must be done outside of school, in places such as the library or either partner's house, and Matthew finds his face slightly heating up at the thought of having _Gilbert Beilschmidt_over at his house or vice versa. After that, the rest is a blur because Matthew is still occupied with thoughts that are slowly turning less innocent.

He only notices that Mr. Vargas has finished speaking when a pale hand waves in front of his face, followed by a "Hell_ooo_?"

Snapping back to reality, Matthew realises that the subjects of his daydreams has materialized in front of him, sitting on a chair across his desk.

"Oh s-sorry." Matthew says lamely, and Gilbert continues to stare at him with an ever-bored expression.

"Whatever. Okay, so I already signed us up for a country with Vargas."

"Which one?" Matthew asks, though he's pretty sure he knows. Gilbert has been known to boast about being German. Specifically, Prussian. Why anyone would claim to be from a dissolved state is beyond Matthew, but Gilbert is known to be slightly weird at times.

"See that kid over there? Gupta?" Gilbert jabs a finger in the direction of a quiet Egyptian boy, who is busy talking to the Turkish boy who always insists on wearing huge sunglasses with thick white frames. Matthew nods.

"I don't like him."

"Okay."

"Do you know Natalia Arlovskaya? Hot blonde chick, nice legs, nicer tits?"

Matthew, having no idea what that has to do with choosing countries, simply nods again.

"I was going to ask her to the semi. And you know what Gupta, that chick-stealing bastard does?"

"I can only guess."

"And I am _way_ too awesome to be rejected by some chick for some weird-ass boy who doesn't speak."

Matthew himself cannot see either, why Natalia would choose Gupta over Gilbert. But then again, Matthew is slightly biased.

"Anyways, I know he likes Egypt a lot. Like, a lot. Like, masturbates-with-a-map lot."

This time Matthew is not sure what response is the most appropriate, so he does not do anything.

"So I signed us up to do Egypt for our project. When the kid finds out, he'll be crying out the fucking Nile."

Matthew is surprised, because he had thought that Gilbert would most likely choose Prussia. He knows from Francis that Gilbert knows a lot about European history, specifically Prussian. Suddenly Matthew finds himself thinking that Gupta is probably not the only one that masturbates with a map.

He does not bring up the fact that he would have actually very much liked to do Canadian history. No one else likes Canadian history anyways, because Canadian history has been shoved down their throats since the third grade and everyone is frankly sick of it.

Not Matthew though. Matthew loves Canada, and plans to get a huge maple leaf tattooed on his chest as soon as he comes of age. No matter how stupid Alfred says it is.

"I think we should meet up after school tomorrow or something, and figure out what we're going to do. The sooner we get this started, the sooner we get this done, and the less we suffer. Give me your number and your email."

Matthew blinks, slightly amused that this is the same guy who decides to skip class if he doesn't like the way the room smells. He rips out a sheet of paper, and jots down contact information. As he hands the piece of paper to Gilbert, Gilbert grabs his hand and writes his own number in big black letters with a sharpie that Matthew is sure will give him skin cancer.

The bell rings, and Gilbert and Matthew shove their books into their bags as Matthew tells Gilbert that maybe they should just figure out this whole thing tonight. The bell rings, and students start to file out of class.

"Alright, sounds good. Call me tonight, alright?"

Although those words have no hidden intent, Matthew can't help but smile a bit to himself, and walk to fourth period Math with a little skip in his step.

* * *

"No way!" Alfred exclaims loudly, ignoring the warning look from Mr. Braginski. "You got partnered with _him_?"

"Yes way." Matthew replies, also ignoring the look. "I did. And the project's till the end of the semester."

Alfred and Matthew are one of the few students who are not intimidated by the teacher with the somewhat thick Russian accent. They are also one of the few students that know Natalia Arlovskaya is actually Braginski's younger sister. But they are the only two students who have caught Natalia reading books on incest, and they have been holding it over Braginski's head ever since the beginning of the tenth grade. He has tried to keep them in check by placing their desks near his, but they figure it's more out fear that they might tell other people in the class.

"Whoa! That's like..." Alfred counts out the months from March to June on his fingers. "Three months! To seduce him! _Dude_!"

Alfred is lucky that the class is having a work period, which means everyone else is generally being noisy and loud. If that hadn't been the case, Matthew would have had to smack him in the nose with his textbook.

"I don't know..." He says, as he doodles in his notebook, quadratic functions not the most important thing on his mind right now. "Do you think I could pull it off?"

"Of course!" Alfred slams his hand on the table in that ever-enthusiastic way of his. "You've liked him for what...six, seven months now? This is like, an opportunity for sexual _release_, bro! Unh!"

Matthew rolls his eyes at the sound effects, too used to Alfred being the biggest weirdo he has ever met.

"Well, I'm sort of nervous...especially since he's friends with Francis. And he sort of knows what happened with us."

"Oh, psh." Alfred waves off Matthew's concerns. "That was one small incident no one cared about. Even _Francis _didn't care about it! He kept trying to hook up with you for a whole two months afterwards, remember?"

Indeed Matthew remembers, and to him, the incident is nothing but small. During April of last year, Francis Bonnefoy, school player extraordinaire, asked Matthew Williams out on a date.

Bonnefoy was the longest Matthew had held a relationship, if it could be called that since the French kid was always running around behind Matthew's back and Matthew sort of ran around behind his. Either way, it had been fun, until the incident.

The 'incident' took place in July, when Matthew and his mother had been called to the first family reunion in fifteen years. It was there that Matthew Williams found out that Francis Bonnefoy, the guy who he skipped class with to mess around, was actually somewhat related to him. As in, he was the son of one of the sisters that Matthew's mother didn't bother telling him that she had.

Matthew was completely horrified upon the revelation, while Gilbert, who had accompanied Francis to the reunion, had keeled over laughing. Francis, for his part, was completely unfazed by the situation, and had suggested they continue their relationship as if nothing had happened.

As much as Alfred insisted that Matthew would not go to hell for being gay ("Cuz aside from heroes, God loves faggots the most!" Alfred had happily chirped when Matthew had voiced that concern), Matthew was sure that he would go to hell for being both gay _and _incestuous.

Hey, he couldn't help that up until he was fourteen, his mom had forced him to go to church every weekend.

After that incident, Matthew had tried his best to ignore Francis, Gilbert, and for good measure, Antonio. It had worked well, until September had rolled around, and Gilbert was in his chemistry class. The two never talked or interacted in general, even though Gilbert would occasionally give him a knowing smirk.

"Jones, if you do not quiet down, I will have to place you in detention for being too disruptive." Braginski says quietly, even though the three of them fully know that the teacher will not carry through with the threat. Alfred continues to talk about the various pornos he has seen where two study buddies get it on, and how Matthew can use various techniques from them to seduce Gilbert.

Matthew just sits there, pretending to listen because Alfred has already told him all of this before. His friend is not that creative when it comes to such things, mostly because he doesn't have to try that hard. People are just naturally attracted to his enthusiastic blue eyes and his energetic personality.

Matthew was too, at one point, and he and Alfred had gotten a friends-with-benefits thing going on. When he had initially come out at the beginning of high school, Alfred was the most supportive, mostly because he was questioning his own sexuality too. They started an experimental friend with benefits type thing, to help them figure things out.

They had stopped eventually, when they deemed it to be too awkward to be fucking when they had more bro-like emotions towards each other. Also, Alfred had called out his own name a few times during their adventures. He had tried to cover it up by saying it was because Matthew looked very similar to him, but Matthew could not look at him without laughing for an entire week.

After that, Matthew's personal love life had consisted of flings and one week relationships with both boys and girls.

Then Matthew had the thing with Francis, but they were anything but faithful or committed. They were only in a relationship by name, really. Even if Francis hadn't secretly been Matthew's cousin, they would have still eventually drifted apart, seeing that when it came to things that did not involve the physical, they were not really suited for each other.

Alfred on the other hand, had managed to find a student, fresh from Japan, to pester. He has also now set his sights on a slightly intimidating punk that has a strong British accent, and spends many a night lamenting to Matthew about how he wishes he could just have them both.

After Francis, Matthew's love/sex life flat-lined, as he did not feel attraction towards anyone, part in fear that he would find out that the person he was hooking up with would end up being another long-lost relative.

Only when school started, did Matthew feel his hormones stirring again. It was in chemistry class that Matthew found himself becoming completely infatuated with Gilbert, who was German and albino, therefore not related whatsoever to Matthew. Gilbert was the wise-ass of the class, constantly giving their teacher (who was coincidentally also Braginski) a hard time and making fun of everyone. Somewhere along the way, Matthew had fallen for that obnoxious personality, that mischievous face, and that _really _nice ass.

He had told Alfred around a month into the infatuation, and his best friend had bugged him non-stop about trying to hook up with Gilbert. Easier said than done, because he hadn't really been sure if Gilbert swung _that _way. He didn't want to attempt his excuse for flirting on Gilbert, if he was straight.

Then, three months ago, Matthew heard from Alfred who heard from Arthur Kirkland who heard it unwillingly from Francis that Gilbert hooked up with some Austrian guy who spent most of his free time jacking off to music from both the likes of Mozart and Andrew Lloyd Weber. The affair lasted only two weeks, but the fact that Gilbert was bi-sexual raised the hopes of Matthew marginally.

It was then that Alfred and Matthew had really started to think on how Matthew, an average if slightly invisible student, would bag Gilbert Beilschmidt, one of the most popular guys in the school.

So far Matthew already has a plan.

Step One: Seduce Gilbert Beilschmidt

Step Two: Get Laid

He has not exactly figured out how he is going to carry out said plan, or what's going to happen in between, but that's what he has Alfred for.

"How about we give you a makeover?" Alfred suggests, tugging at a lock of Matthew's light blond hair. "Maybe we could get you some blue contacts, kinda like my eye colour. And maybe straighten your hair, like mine. Maybe we could add some colour-enhancer into it?"

Matthew raises an eyebrow.

"I want Gilbert to like _me_. Not an imitation of you."

"Well," Alfred says, as he gives a look of mock offence. "Excuse _you._ I was just trying to help."

"That's the problem." Matthew sighs, as he takes off his glasses to clean them. As he rubs them on his bright red CANADA sweater, he catches Alfred staring at him.

"What?"

"That's it!" Alfred exclaims, grabbing Matthew's face in his hands and drawing it close to his own. "Your eyes!"

Mr. Braginski coughs, and Matthew is sure that the brunette who always keeps a flower in her hair is trying to subtly take a picture with her phone.

"You have the coolest eyes ever! They're like almost violet or some abnormal shit!" Alfred rambles, pulling Matthew's eyelids upwards. "All we need to do is get you contacts, since you can't see them that well behind glasses. And then you can beckon him with a seductive look."

Alfred turns to Mr. Braginski's desk rotating Matthew's head as well.

"Whaddaya say, Braginski? Do you think Matthew would look hot with contacts?"

Mr. Braginski narrows his eyes, but gives a polite smile.

"Alfred, I do not think that's a very appropriate question."

"Killjoy~"

Alfred just gives his regular megawatt grin as he lets go of Matthew, and tightens his grip around his pen. The teacher calms himself with the fact that he is currently marking Alfred's test, and the teen is so far failing miserably on it.

"Matt, face it." Alfred continues, as Matthew rubs his cheeks. "You're not bad, but if we're trying to trying to seduce _him_, we need to step up your game. He's no Francis, so you're going to have work harder. Plus he's _popular_, which means you need to break down many social barriers."

Matthew presses his lips together, not appreciating the reminder that even though he had dated a popular person and his best friend is rather high up on the high school hierarchy, Matthew has yet to reach any such level.

But Matthew believes that he can do it. He does not know how, but in the next three months or so, Matthew Williams will manage to both entice and hook up with Gilbert Beilschmidt.

The fact that he has a fifty dollar going on with Alfred slightly adds to the motivation.

* * *

Romeo Vargas: Grandpa Rome

cookies for those who guess who the principal is

I haven't written in present tense for anything aside from satire, so this amuses me.

REVIEWS ARE REAALLY APPRECIATED ~


	2. Chapter 2

**Relationship Status: It's Complicated**

Chapter Two

* * *

It is currently 6 in the evening, and Matthew is sitting at his desk in his room, staring at his cell phone apprehensively, while Alfred is lying on his bed with Matthew's fat white cat stretched across his stomach.

"You know." Alfred states, as he absentmindedly scratches Kumajirou's ears. "It's been five minutes since you left the message. You don't need to get worked up."

Matthew shoots Alfred a shut-the-fuck-up-I'm-not-worked-up glare, before going back to looking at his cell phone. Oh no, he is not waiting for a call back from Gilbert Beilschmidt. No, he is just admiring his phone, in all its cellular glory.

The phone starts to vibrate, and Matthew jumps in his seat. Unfortunately, it is only a text message from his mother telling him that she is not coming home tonight, presumably because Rupert is getting lucky again.

Sighing, he slumps back into his chair. What if Gilbert didn't really mean for him to call? What if Gilbert didn't really want to interact with Matthew anyways? What if he had forgotten about Matthew already?

"Dude, if he didn't mean for you to call, he wouldn't have given you his number." Alfred says assuringly, because Matthew tends think out loud sometimes. "And it's been a grand total of...six minutes, now. Stop acting like a chick obsessing over her boyfriend."

Matthew simply grumbles, because when you are waiting for a call from your crush, even if it's about something mundane like school work, time seems to drag on forever.

Suddenly, obscure techno music starts playing from the phone, and Matthew snatches it up. The caller ID confirms that yes; it is Gilbert Beilschmidt calling him right now.

"Hello?" He says, a little too loudly and a little too breathless.

_"...Matthew? Are you okay?"_

Alfred muffles his giggles in a pillow, and Matthew flips him the bird.

"S-sorry, I had to...run to my phone. You know, because it wasn't near me and stuff."

_"Oh, okay. Anyways, I don't really have much time to talk at the moment but I thought I'd call anyways. Do you want to meet up at lunch or something tomorrow, and sort out the details for this project? Antonio and Francis are out on some field trip, so I might as well grace you with my awesome presence."_

"At lunch, tomorrow...?" Matthew throws Alfred a questioning look, and Alfred replies with two thumbs up. "Alright, sure..."

_"Alright, cool. My locker's on the second floor, across our old chemistry room. It's near the library, so just meet me there, okay?"_

Matthew already knows where Gilbert's locker is. No, it is not because he stalks him, it is just because Alfred's locker is near his and he goes to Alfred's locker regularly. Why he does _that_, he has yet to figure out an excuse for.

"Okay."

_"Sweet. Alright, I'll catch you later."_

And before Matthew has a chance to say good bye, Gilbert hangs up.

He stares at the phone, the phone with which he had his first phone conversation with Gilbert. He ponders about making pancakes to commemorate this occasion, until Alfred's voice interrupts.

"He's really eager to get this started with, isn't he? You guys got the project just today, didn't you?"

"I guess he just wants to get this over with as quickly as possible." Matthew shrugs. "It's what he said in class. It's for the best I guess, so we're not scrambling last minute."

Alfred tuts and shakes his head.

"No it is _not _for the best. It's actually a _horrible_ idea."

"Why?"

"Because if you two get done earlier, that means you two won't be able to spend as much time together. And I bet you anything that in the short amount of time you guys _do_ get together, _you_," Alfred punctuates this statement with a jab of a finger towards Matthew's direction. "Are going to be too shy or stupid to say or do anything. Nothing's going to happen. No secret steamy make-outs in the library, no sexing with your homework getting crushed underneath you, no _nothing_."

Matthew blinks before going slightly pink as the mental images start to creep in.

"I'm not _that_ helpless, eh?"

"Well, you've liked him for more than half a year and you haven't done _shit_. I think that counts as being helpless."

"But Gilbert hangs out with the...the _popular _people! It's hard!"

Alfred sighs a deep sigh, giving Matthew a pitying look.

"And _you_ hang out with me, the school hero. So technically you and Beilschmidt are on the same level."

"But-"

"I don't want to hear it. You dated Francis for Christ's sake. Even if he is your cousin and a bit of a slut, he still counts. Which totally makes you socially acceptable."

It is Matthew's turn to sigh, as he pinches the bridge of his nose. "I don't know Alfred."

"Dude, don't _worry_. You're definitely popular kid material!" Then Alfred frowns. "And you're not a _girl. _So I don't know why you'd care if you're a loser or not!"

Matthew doesn't point out that Alfred thinks the same way. When they were around 11, they watched repeats of _Mean Girls _in order to be able to quote the movie and impress the same girl, but Matthew was sure it had somewhat affected their way of thinking.

"And anyways, didn't he do that guy, Rodereich?"

Matthew nods, slight jealousy filling him at the mention of the name.

"Well, from what I hear, the guy's a total _loser. _Apparently he's really stuck up but always ends up completely whipped no matter who he dates. And his mom still packs him lunches. And picks him up after band practise even though he got his license. _And _he still wears a dress shirt and pants."

_And yet_, Matthew thinks bitterly, _He still manages to get the guy I've been lusting after for close to a year._

"So?"

"So, I'm saying that if Beilschmidt could hook up with a loser like that, he could hook up with _you_."

Matthew stares at Alfred, not quite sure whether he has been complimented or insulted.

* * *

"Alright, remember what we discussed yesterday." Alfred says, as they walked to school. Today, they were on time and would not receive a verbal ass-kicking during first period. "Follow my advice and you shall succeed."

As an afterthought, he adds, "Grasshopper."

Matthew rolls his eyes.

"We didn't discuss anything." Matthew replies, kicking a stone in front of them. "You talked and I disagreed to all of your stupid ideas."

"And we agreed that you're just stupid, and with an attitude like that you'll never get laid."

"Just in case you don't remember, I've already gotten laid."

"Well," Alfred points out. "Have you gotten laid by _Gilbert_?"

Matthew doesn't reply, and Alfred gives a smug smile.

"I thought so. Now, I know you aren't too big on seduction but I think you can really pull it off. If not, I'm sure we can pay Beilschmidt to at least give you a blowjob. "

After a moment of contemplation, Matthew says, "I hate you, Alfred."

Alfred simple laughs and slaps Matthew on the back, sending him stumbling.

* * *

"Oh, you never did tell us who you're working with." Francis says from the backseat. Currently he, Antonio, Arthur, and Arthur's annoying-as-fuck little brother, Peter, are crammed into the back of Gilbert's car, with complete disregard for the seatbelt law.

The passenger seat is occupied by Sadiq Adnan, who is still wearing his monstorous sunglasses with thick white frames, even though it is a bleary march day.

"Dude, you were there in class. Vargas announced it in front of everyone." Gilbert replied, trying to keep his eye on the road and change the station at the same time.

"Really? I wasn't paying attention. Too occupied."

"Not surprised. " Gilbert shakes his head. "I'm with Matthew Williams."

Francis gasps slightly at the name.

"Matthew? Oh, _Matthew! _I can't believe you're working with him!"

"Is there a problem?"

"No, of course not!"

Francis keeps his expression blank as Gilbert looks at him through the rear-view mirror. But as soon as Gilbert returns his attention back to driving, he exchanges a knowing glance with Arthur.

Because Alfred F. Jones is really, _really _bad at keeping a secret.

* * *

During first period, Alfred will not stop texting Matthew while the class reads Macbeth.

"Alfred," Matthew hisses. "I'm right beside you!"

"So?" Alfred replies back in a normal tone, earning a short reprimand from the teacher.

Alfred texts Matthew;

_SEEE this is y we dunn talk in class, we TXT_

Matthew shakes his head, wondering how people can type like that, even with a QWERTY keyboard, and replies;

_Either way, stop it_

"Nope." Alfred replies happily, as he continues to text various pick-up lines to Matthew, so that he can use them on Gilbert. At some of them, Matthew has to press his lips tightly so that he does not laugh out loud and let Alfred know that he is actually enjoying a few of them. Or get his phone taken away.

_Did u spray windex in ur pants? Cus i can see myself in them _

_if u were a car, i'd ride u all over ;)_

_r u free tonight, or will it cost me?_

_I wnt to floss w. Ur pubic hair_

At the last one, Matthew snerks (yes, that's a verb) loudly, and the teacher stops her talking to glare hard at the two boys.

"Jones! And your friend!" She barks. "What are you two doing?"

Alfred shoots her an innocent look, while Matthew sinks into his seat. The teacher doesn't buy it, and holds both her hands out for the phones.

Later on, Matthew's face turns red as he sees his teacher at the desk, reading their text messages and looking like she was on the word of extreme laughter.

* * *

Matthew is halfway through second period, and is tapping out Iron Maiden on his notebook at a furious rate which is making his pencil crack.

Time is inching by slowly.

Gupta, who is sitting in front of him in their law class, shoots an annoyed look at Matthew over his shoulder, which Matthew ignores.

They are currently doing individual work, and Matthew can't stop fretting over lunch. He feels like he is in middle school again, specifically Grade 6, when he had to work up the nerve to ask out a Taiwanese chick and ultimately failed.

His mind keeps flashing to Gilbert, and how they are meeting together for lunch. Yes, for a project, but if things go in favour for Matthew, they'll soon be meeting up for more than just schoolwork.

It's just how exactly he is going to do that without looking like an utter fool that has Matthew stumped. Yes, Alfred has offered a lot of advice, and no, not of a lot of it is any good.

Matthew looks again at the clock hanging over the door. Twenty-five minutes to lunch.

Time is inching by _very _slowly for Matthew Williams.

* * *

Matthew hurries down the stairs to the second floor as soon as the lunch bell rings, eager to get to Gilbert's locker. Alfred, who is going up the same stairs to go find someone to bother, spots his friend rushing and blocks his way.

"Woah there, skipper." He says, waving his arms in front of Matthew and pissing off everyone else who's trying to go down the stairs. "Why are you rushing?"

"I have to meet up with Gilbert! I can't be late I-"

"You mean the one coming down the stairs right now?"

Matthew cranes his neck and sees Gilbert coming down the same steps. He is busy talking to his younger brother, a human tank that goes by the name Ludwig. Despite being a year apart, the two are still in the same grade since Gilbert was held back a year back in kindergarten. No one outside of his family knows why; he just claims it was because he was too awesome and he overwhelmed the teacher.

"You, come with me." Alfred says, tugging on the sleeve of Matthew's shirt. Before Matthew can question him, he starts pulling him down the stairs. He finds himself being dragged to Alfred's locker.

"Lean against the locker beside mine." Alfred commands as he opens his locker and Matthew complies. He leans on his side against the metal, and notices past Alfred's head, that Gilbert has reached his own locker eight units down- not like he had ever counted or anything, it's just pure observation.

"Hey, dumbass, stop staring at him. You're being too obvious!"

Matthew blinks and directs his attention back to Alfred.

"The key," Alfred states. "Is to get _him_ to come to you. If you stand there, waiting at his locker eagerly, you're going to look like a dink. "

"Oh."

"Don't make eye contact until I tell you too. Continue talking to me as if everything is normal. You've got to wait till he comes here."

Matthew raises an eyebrow, thinking doing that will just make him look like a jerk.

"And how, exactly, is that supposed to help?"

But Alfred is too busy texting to answer Matthew. Sighing, Matthew settles for staring absent-mindedly at Alfred, while watching Gilbert out of the corner of his vision. Gilbert is now alone at his locker, shoving some books and binders into his locker and throwing his history binder into his bag. When he is done, he slams the locker door shut and locks it. Matthew, for a second, thinks he's going to walk away but then Gilbert starts looking around and scanning the slightly crowded hall.

Matthew, remembering Alfred's advice, ducks his head so that he does not make eye contact with Gilbert.

Surprisingly, Alfred smacks him upside the chin, using his mad football strength. Cursing, Matthew aims a swift kick at Alfred.

"Alfred! What are you doing?"

"He's looking for you! Don't make yourself _completely_ invisible!"

"I'm not! I'm just following your stupid advice!"

Alfred is about to retort, but stops mid-breath and smiles.

"My advice is not stupid." he says simply and Matthew is about to counter when he feels a tap on his shoulder.

"Yo."

He wheels around and comes face to face with Gilbert. All the rage he has towards Alfred starts to slowly drain out and get replaced by nervousness and a slight shyness.

"E-eh, hello..." he manages to make out.

"Are you ready to go to the library?" Gilbert asks. He is already looking slightly impatient.

"Ye-yeah."

"Then let's go." Gilbert jerks his head towards the library and Matthew nods vigorously. Alfred cannot decide whether to laugh or face-palm so he settles for a "Take care of him, Beilschmidt. He gets lost easy."

Matthew sputters while Gilbert raises an eyebrow in Alfred's direction and has an amused look in his face.

"Let's leave." he says hurriedly and starts walking towards the library.

Gilbert goes with him and as soon Alfred thinks they are out of hearing range, he bursts out into loud laughter.

* * *

I am _seriously _enjoying writing this awkward highschool-ness. Oh _:'D_

Reviews are really, really appreciated :D


	3. Chapter 3

**Relationship Status: It's Complicated**

Chapter Three

* * *

"Uh..." Matthew scratches his cheek, a nervous habit he picked up from Alfred from when they were young.

"Hmm?" Gilbert hums, and continues clicking away on the computer. Nothing on the screen has to do with history, including the essay he has just pulled up.

"Our project..."

"What about it?"

Matthew, not the best with words, decides to slump back into the chair beside Gilbert. They are at one of the many computers in the fairly crowded but relatively quiet area.

They have been at the library for only eight and a half minutes, and Matthew already feels slightly on the edge. He can literally hear Alfred yelling at him and telling him to make most of the situation but Matthew is not always a go-getter.

Gilbert is reading something on the screen and Matthew decides that he might as well read it too. It is a subpar essay, probably written last minute, on Macbeth.

Gilbert catches Matthew leaning forward, his head propped on his hands which are propped on his knees. He seems to be scanning the computer screen with some interest.

"Yo." He says, nudging Matthew. "You any good at English?"

Matthew looks up and nods slightly.

"Decent." he says, because he doesn't want to brag about his 93 in the course.

"Francis told me you were in the nineties."

And, after telling him that on the ride to school, Francis had insisted that Gilbert get Matthew's help on the essay he was so screwed for. After that, he and Arthur exchanged a snicker.

"Francis talks about me?" Matthew asks in slight surprise, then immediately regrets it as Gilbert smirks.

"Of course. You're his _cousin_ after all."

Matthew does not appreciate the fact that his crush knows one of his most embarrassing secrets. Saying nothing, he focuses his attention back to the screen.

"Anyways, could you look this over for me? It's due last period and I need to know I'm not completely fucked, because I wrote this essay this morning."

"Aren't we supposed to be working on our history?" Matthew asks and Gilbert waves him off.

"Later."

Matthew raises an eyebrow and Gilbert gives an irritated sigh.

" Dude, we have so _long _to do that. I need to get this shit done now or my teacher will flip, and I can't skip history because of our stupid unit test."

Matthew hums slightly then nods. He doesn't bother pointing out that it was Gilbert's idea to come work on history in the first place. Even though he has always been a bit selfish and dislikes editing, he decides to make an exception. Maybe this will get Gilbert to like him more.

* * *

"Alfred F. Jones." Says a voice from behind, and Alfred turns around. He's greeted by an ashy blond who wears his hair similar to Robert Pattinson's, something that he vehemently denies doing on purpose.

"Lars," he grins, not saying the last name because it is long, complicated, and Dutch. Lars is his homeboy, so they bro-fist before the other asks Alfred why exactly he's standing on his tip toes and looking in through the library windows.

"Remember Matthew and his obsession with the Beilschmidt kid?"

"Who, Gilbert? I thought Matthew said it was just a small infatuation."

"Well," Alfred replies as he cranes his neck again to get a better view of the people in question. "You don't have to listen to him talk about it on a daily basis."

"I suppose." Lars shrugs and decides to join Alfred in peering through the windows, but does not strain because he is not a creeper. "Are they over there? On the computer beside Gupta."

"Yeah, they are."

Alfred sees that Matthew seems to be scrolling through a document on the screen. He also appears to be talking, and Gilbert, who is busy texting, appears to be giving non-commital grunts in return.

"He's got no game. Shit." Alfred swears, as he watches his friend keep attempting to talk to Gilbert.

"He doesn't," Lars murmured, wondering how Matthew hasn't seen his eager friend stalking him yet. "But only when it comes to Beilschmidt."

"True. Or anyone from school, really. If you see him when we go out, wow." Alfred whistles. "He's a class act on his own. But he actually hasn't gotten laid as much as he says he has."

"Think that's the problem?"

"Maybe." Alfred shrugs. The two stand there for three more minutes, till Alfred cannot take it anymore.

"Fuck this man, I'm calling him."

* * *

The song rings through the otherwise quiet library, and Matthew can hear a few sniggers. Gilbert merely raises an eyebrow and Matthew fumbles with his phone. Cursing Alfred forever for picking that as his special ring tone, Matthew picks up the call, stopping the embarrassing sexual novelty song from playing any further.

"Alfred!" He whisperes into the phone, then winces at the volume in which his friend replies back. "What is it?"

He hears someone admonishing Alfred, and thanks them silently as Alfred continues in a less ferocious manner.

"What do you think you're doing?" Alfred demands.

"Uh, working?"

"Not good! You're supposed to be _seducing_!"

Matthew casts a quick glance towards Gilbert, who has gone back to texting, before speaking again.

"I'm a little bit busy right now-"

"With the wrong things!"

"Christ on a motherfucking pony!" Matthew swears, a little too loudly, and Gilbert looks up.

"Is everything okay?"

"Of-of course." Matthew replies a little too brightly, and as he looks at Gilbert, he notices over the platinum hair that Alfred (and is that Lars too?) staring in too the library, phone in his hand and waving enthusiastically.

"I will kill you." Matthew hisses, and hangs up. Gilbert throws him a questioning glance, and Matthew just shakes his head and slumps back to his seat. They fall into what they had been doing, Matthew reading and editing a poorly done essay, and Gilbert sending sext messages to everyone on the contact list of the phone he swiped from his brother earlier on in the morning.

* * *

"Bastard hung up on me!" Alfred exclaims, throwing his hands up in the air. Lars wonders why he is surprised.

* * *

Matthew is almost done practically rewriting Gilbert's essay, and is slightly irritated.

For a good part of the lunch period, his crush has been sitting beside him. The conversation has been one-sided for the most part and Matthew wonders why he does these things. Normal people have to be bullied into doing things, but no, not Matthew Williams, your resident doormat.

Caught in this bitter train of thought, he doesn't notice Gilbert leaning forward and looking.

"Wow, kid." he says, as he reads what Matthew has changed. Turning his head to the blond, he grins and says, "You're my saviour."

And so the train of bitterness derails.

"No problem." Matthew replies quietly, and gives a small smile. He is glad that for a change, he is not stuttering around Gilbert.

Gilbert prints out his essay right as the bell signalling the end of lunch rings. Matthew wants to suggest walking to history together, but scraps the idea when he sees Gilbert start an animated conversation with another junior. Matthew feels a slight tinge of jealousy that the other person can talk so easily with Gilbert, but that's okay. He'll get an opportunity to do the same. Because he, though being a silent wallflower in the student body and a big dork, was Matthew fucking Williams, and he could do this.

* * *

Alfred and Matthew walk into the classroom of last period Math and make it about three feet in when they notice that instead of Braginski at the desk, it is a young looking supply teacher, who eerily has the same haircut as their principal.

"Ah, Mr. Jones and Mr. Williams?" she asks, glancing down at the attendance.

Alfred and Matthew exchange looks.

Utter confusion crosses Matthew's face while Alfred's eyes slightly widen when he realizes the situation.

"Wait... it's fourth period... don't we actually have drama right now, Jason?" he asks, an Matthew nods vigorously.

"Crap, you're right, Mark. We need to run before we get run even more late."

They give the supply an apologetic smile, and then leave after she says that, "Oh, it's okay boys."

"Convenience store?" Matthew suggests and Alfred agrees as they amble down one of the stairwells. They are so used to skipping that unlike the freshmen that bolt it out the door, they can simply just walk out of school.

* * *

They walk to the convenience store nearby to stock up on insane amounts of food. Or as much food as five dollar bill could get. The bell chimes as they walk in, and the cashier looks up. He gives them a small wave and goes back to reading the newspaper.

As they walk down the aisles looking for food, the conversation turns to their love interests. Specifically Matthew's.

"I can't believe you didn't do anything!" Alfred says, as he debates between cheetos or hickory sticks.

"Calm yourself." Matthew says, as he picks up a bag of chips. "I edited his english homework for him."

"That's not _sexy_."

"I can't be sexy in a library." Matthew replies, then waves of Alfred before he describes in detail how exactly to be sexy in a library. He tosses the bag of chips to Alfred, and heads to where the refridgerators are lined up. He opens it, and takes one of the large cans of ice tea, and gives it to Alfred as well.

"Buddy, I only have five bucks. You're going to have to put those away." Matthew says, and Alfred grudgingly sets down the cheetos, hickory sticks, and can of pringles. "And why are we only talking about me? What about _your_ love life, eh?"

"What about it?"

"Well, how are things going with whoever you've decided to set your sights on now?"

"Well, I don't know. To be honest, Arthur and Kiku are both being bitches."

"Do they even know that you're trying to get with them?" Matthew asks as they get in line behind two others. Alfred does not reply and Matthew raises an eyebrow.

"Dude..."

"Well." Alfred laughs nervously. "I tried to make it obvious?"

"And you say _I _don't have any game-"

"You don't, you-"

"Well fuck you, I can-"

"You can't do shit, buddy-"

"Let me atleast finish the sentence, Jones-"

"Uh, how about no-"

"I know someone who's going gay for you."

The silence following indicates that Matthew has won this one. Alfred's jaw slightly drops at this very new piece of information.

"Hoshit! Who?"

Matthew debates whether he should tell Alfred or not. He should have told Alfred earlier, since Alfred was his best friend, and he guesses he owes Alfred the name.

But Alfred did stalk him during lunch, and the person _did _ask him not to tell.

"I can't tell," he smirks. "But you'll find out."

"What- why can't you tell me?"

"I pinky swore." Matthew grins while Alfred flicks him on the forehead.

"Douchebag. How am I supposed to ask the guy out then?"

"What do you mean ask him out?" Matthew asks increduosly. "What about your two other guys? The ones you still have to tell you're going after?"

"Well, I don't want to be an anti-hero and deny anyone my amazingness. I'm not a loser like you."

"Dude, you're such a whore." Matthew laughs, smoothing over the insult and Alfred shoots him a withering look.

"Shut up." Alfred says, as he bops Matthew over the head with his large bag of chips. "At least I'm not going after some lame pale freak."

This causes Matthew's small inner victory dance to stop.

"He's not lame..." Matthew mutters, avoiding the other two accusations. They are almost at the front of the cash register and while the girl in front of them tries to buy cigarettes with her fake ID, Matthew digs in his pockets for money.

"And he's not hot either."

Matthew merely mumbles something, and Alfred continues.

"Dude, his name is _Gilbert _for Christ's sake_._ Does that sound like a sexy name to you?"

Matthew feels heat slowly creep up his face, because truth be told, he finds everything about Gilbert to be hot, from his platinum-blond-on-the-verge-of-white hair to those ridiculous eyes of his that look like they're some dark red colour. Yes, somewhere between Gilbert's toned arms and smooth voice, his name is wedged into the sexy list.

Alfred sees the look on Matthew's face and shakes his head in disappointment.

"It's a good thing we're so tight, bro. Lesser friendships fall apart due to lack of taste."

Matthew snorts at that, earning another thwack on the head with the chip bag. For some reason, the five dollar bill that he had this morning has decided to go missing, leaving them with no money to pay for the chips that have already been opened by Alfred.

"Uh, Al?"

"Mm?"

"I don't know where my five went."

"Your five what?"

"My five bucks. You know, what we're paying with."

"Oh."

Alfred scrunches up his face for a second, appearing to be in deep thought, then shrugs.

"You can head on out, and I suppose I'll just put this back."

Matthew understands, nods, and then lets out a loud sigh.

"And I was so hungry, too."

Matthew walks out of the convenience store, glad that the kid who was in front of them in the line is still trying to feed the cashier bullshit, making it easier for Alfred to slide the bag under his bomber jacket and walk out of the store. Though, even if the cashier wasn't occupied, Matthew doubts that he would have noticed anyways; the cashier was a twenty-year-old transfer student from Greece who would rather sleep than manage his aunt's store.

Matthew pops open the can of Arizona that Alfred had also snuck out, and takes a long swig as they start to walk down the road, turning in to the street which leads to the park. The park is nestled between an area full of houses, therefore not as many people go there. As they walk, Alfred decides to prod Matthew again about the new piece of information.

"So, is it someone we know?" Alfred asks, and Matthew nods. "Is he in our grade?"

"Nope, he's a senior."

"Is he with someone?"

"Nope."

Matthew is slightly irritated since he has already told Alfred he won't tell him who the mystery guy is, but it is a small price to pay to not be further embrassed about Gilbert Beilschmidt.

Alfred remains uncharacteristically quiet for the rest of the ten minute walk to the park, as he racks his mind for who it possibly could be. As they reach the park, Matthew's mother drives by on the street beside. His mother normally does not have a problem with him skipping, partly because she wasn't there herself for half her highschool career, so Matthew and Alfred both raise a hand in greeting. However, the car pulls over to the side, and Matthew notes with a small grimace that at the moment, Rupert is getting out of the passenger seat.

"Boys!" The burly man barks. "What the hell are ya doing? Aren't ya supposed to be at school?"

"Uhh..." Matthew and Alfred reply in unison, and Rupert yells again.

"Git yer sorry asses in the car! Jones, your father will be hearing about this!"

"I liked the last guy better." Alfred sighs, as they grudgingly walk towards the maroon minivan. As they get in Rupert starts berating them on skipping school, delinquency, and being teenagers, Matthew cannot help but nod in agreement.


	4. Chapter 4

**Relationship Status: It's Complicated**

Chapter Four

* * *

After being caught by Rupert, Matthew had been grounded for an entire week. He protested that Rupert had no right, because he had only known him and his mother for a few weeks, but apparently Rupert, who didn't even live with them, did. Matthew had expected his mother not to follow up with it, given that she rarely did, but apparently when they had caught the two boys skipping, they had been coming back from a parenting seminar which they had gone to upon the insistence of Rupert.

Though she is smart and successful, especially given her circumstances, is not the best with relationships. Matthew's father had left her as soon as Matthew was born, leaving her to fend for her and the baby at the age if seventeen. Though every other aspect of her life remained slightly normal, and she managed to finish business school and secure a decent job, her taste in men slightly deteriorated and she was too dependent for her own good.

That's how situations like this happened, where she let her current boy toy have a say in things he really shouldn't be meddling in.

Now, for a week, Matthew has to come straight home from school, and none of his friends are allowed over. No, not on the weekend either, and no, not even that Jones kid who is so good at charming Ms. Williams. Sadly, even when his mother is working at the bank, he follows the rules of the grounding, purely because Rupert has a tendency to stop by and check on him.

This is why instead of talking to Alfred, he is reduced to lying on his bed with his immensely overweight cat curled up on his stomach as he talks to him.

"I still can't believe I'm grounded for something so stupid." Matthew grumbles, running his fingers through the fine white fur. "It's been two days and mom has _still_ not let up."

The cat lifts up his head, looking like he has a puzzled expression.

"Meeeooo?" The cat asks. His meows always sound like a mix between a cat and a cow, and Alfred had said it sounded like the cat was asking "Who?". The theory was further enforced by the cat resuming whatever he is doing after whoever was in his presence declares their names.

"Matthew." Matthew replies with a sigh. The cat drops his head back down, and Matthew takes it as a cue to continue his rambling on how Rupert is the worst man ever and how he needs to go back from the trailer park Matthew's mother had picked him up from.

* * *

"This is your fault." Alfred says for the umpteenth time as they two continue to waste away in detention.

"Quiet!" Barks the principal and Alfred rolls his eyes.

When Rupert had dragged Alfred back to his house, Mrs. Jones, an uptight and conservative mother, had been livid to say the least. She screamed at Alfred for skipping and "being a delinquent" and falling under bad influences, which was rounded off with the regular "Now if you weren't gay, you wouldn't be like this!" and a shaking of the head. She had called the school to personally apologize for her son's "atrocious" behaviour, and that was how the principal had found out that the boys had skipped a class by deceiving substitute teacher. That didn't sit with him too well, especially since the substitute was his own sister, naive and fresh out of teacher's college. That is the reason behind Alfred and Matthew having eight lunch detentions.

They are currently on detention #4, where they have to sit in the corner of the principal's office while he glowers at them.

"Not quite, eh?" Matthew replies quietly and the principal shoots another murderous glance.

Alfred huffs and continues twiddling his thumbs in his lap. He has never been good with sitting around for such a long time, especially when he isn't doing anything.

Both teens are grumpy about such a small situation being dragged into something so big. They are grumpy that their parental units are big bitches, and they are grumpy that they have to sit in the office with a principal, who does not engage in conversation that does not involve hunting or discipline.

But most of all, they are grumpy about all the time they are wasting in a stuffy office instead of focusing on more interesting things.

Matthew is now unavailable both after school and during lunch, and all the times Gilbert Beilschmidt has asked him if they want to get together to work on the project, he has had to turn him down. Well, he has only been asked twice, but still. He is not ballsy enough to pull any moves in history class because he cannot pull things off in front of a class full of people he knows, and because Gilbert does not talk to him a lot in class. Alfred tries to convince Matthew that even simply asking the other for a pencil can work to his benefit, but Matthew is too stubborn.

"This wouldn't happen if you didn't wave to your mom, stupid. Who the hell waves to their parent while skipping?" Alfred grumbles. "And you didn't even tell me who likes me."

"Shut up!" The principal barks again, and Matthew refrains from pointing out that Alfred was the one who had waved enthusiastically. They fall back into silence, lamenting over how slow and boring life can be.

* * *

As Matthew stumbles in slightly late to class after lunch, mumbling something to Vargas about a jammed locker, Francis reaches pokes Gilbert on the side with his pencil.

"How is your project coming along?" He whispers, as Gilbert leans sideways to listen.

"What project?"

"The one for this class, Gilbert."

"Oh." Gilbert leans back to his chair, and shrugs. "The kid's unavailable. Something about being tied up for a week or two or some shit like that."

Francis hums in response, and remembers Alfred telling him something about him and Matthew getting their ass kicked by their respective parents. Quite a shame, because after he, and Arthur to some extent, had been roped in by Alfred to help Matthew (without Matthew's knowledge nor consent, of course), he has been quite eager to get things going. After all, ever since Gilbert had fallen through with Natalia, and then with Roderich, his friend has been a bit of a kill joy, acting cynical and stomping over both Antonio's and Francis' love life, purely because he is bitter.

* * *

However, the lull in things with Matthew is very, _very _temporary.

"Alfred!" someone calls out, slapping Matthew on his back as he walks to last period. He turns to look at the person, and with fake enthusiasm, says, "Peter!"

Thick brows furrow for a moment, and the person scowls, then breaks out into a naturally rakish grin.

"Sorry 'bout that, mate." Arthur chuckles, running his hand through his spiky blond hair and Matthew gives a small smile back.

Every time Arthur mistakes Matthew for Alfred, Matthew pretends to think that Arthur is actually Peter, his younger brother and the title-holder of the 'Most Annoying Person Ever', even though the two are nothing alike. Peter is a clean-cut, obnoxious freshman with an obsession with hanging out with older people, while Arthur is a complete punk, complete with a lower lip ring and obscure band shirts.

However, he is a punk that wears tweed on the weekend when he goes to the local book club, so maybe the two are more alike than they let on.

"Have you seen Alfred?" Arthur asks as he falls in to step with Matthew.

"No, but I have math right now, and he's in my class." Matthew replies. Someone walks in to him, deterring him for a second, and Arthur sighs and pulls Matthew out of the way.

"You need to watch out more." He says, and Matthew shrugs. Even when the halls are not crowded, he is used to people accidentally bumping or walking in to him and then walking away without an apology.

"Why do you want to see Alfred?"

"Because he's not replying to any of my text messages."

"He had his phone taken away a couple of days ago."

"Oh..." Arthur falls silent, and they stop as reach the main stairwell. "Well, when you see him, tell him that there's going to be a fight after school."

"Who?" Matthew raises an eyebrow.

"Garcia and Beilschmidt."

Matthew's ears perk up at that name, but he tries to keep his expression even. "Why?"

"No bloody idea. They've been getting each other's panties in a knot for over a while, and they're going to let it out after school today. At the far left field right off school property. Tell Alfred to come, it'll be entertaining to watch."

Matthew nods, and starts to step up the stairs, when Arthur calls out to him.

"Matthew!"

"Yes?" Matthew cranes his head back to look at Arthur, who has the rakish smile on again.

"Tell Jones he should bring a _friend_."

* * *

"Ahh," Alfred says, leaning back into his chair with his arms behind his head as Matthew relays the information. "This is perfect."

Braginski, who is up writing their math questions up on the board, turns his head to give them a cold, cruel smile that has anyone else quivering, but the two boys simply smile back, and ignore it.

"Perfect?" Matthew queries, and Alfred nods. "How?"

"Well, for starters, you and me," Alfred jabs his thumb into his chest. "Are going to go."

"Can't," Matthew sighs. "Rupert still checks up on me."

"Well fuck Rupert, we're still going. Tell him you need to stay after school with study group or something."

Matthew looks at Alfred pointedly, reminding him that Rupert is a man that takes no shit.

"But this is the perfect opportunity!" Alfred protests, tapping his pencil on Matthew's desk.

"Jones, Williams. Please be quiet." Braginski requests and is yet again ignored as Alfred continues.

"See, if there's one thing Francis and Arthur tell me that Beilschmidt likes is when people have his back."

"Okay?"

"Yeah, and in order to get into his pants, you need to do things he likes. Bro, I think we found your opportunity."

Matthew has a blank look on his face, then realization dawns upon him.

"You're not asking me to fight, are you?"

Alfred just beams at him, and Matthew decides to scooch away an inch.

"Oh, hell _no_, I am _not _going to fight anyone."

Matthew is not much of a fighter; well actually that's a lie. Matthew can pack quite a punch when he needs to, and can slam into others like a bad ass due to playing hockey until he was fifteen. But Matthew would rather not use that strength to instigate violence, and he definitely does not enjoy getting into fights. He is the type that will hit the other person where it will hurt the most, then book it out of there and go into hiding before anyone can find him and hit him back. He'd rather not get into any fight at all; passive-aggressiveness is more of his thing, and he'd rather be a peacemaker.

"Who said you had to fight? All you have to do is have his back!"

Something in Alfred's voice tells Matthew that he really does not have any option in this.

"_It's the same thing, eh?_"

* * *

The period comes to an end, and Matthew would be a lying bastard if he says that he isn't nervous as hell. Through the period, Alfred had made it very clear that they were going to the fight after school whether Matthew wanted to or not.

So they pack up their books, and head out into the hall, and Matthew can already hear whispering about the fights. They reach Alfred's locker, and Matthew keeps out an eye for Gilbert, wondering if the teen will come. Sure enough, there's Beilschmidt, marching towards his locker, not looking too happy. Francis, Antonio, and a third kid, a tall Danish junior with wild blond hair by the name of Christensen, are following behind Gilbert with looks of suppressed glee.

Matthew pretends to be listening to Alfred, while he is actually straining his ears to listen to the four boys eight lockers down. And sort of staring at Gilbert, who looks _really _good, even though he's got the expression of being pissed beyond pissed. Everyone in the other's friend group looks really good, but if Matthew has to pick, Gilbert Beilschmidt was definitely ahead in the looks department. Anyone who wears dog tags and black combat boots can't go wrong.

As Gilbert puts on his black jacket and pulls up the fur hood, Alfred snaps his fingers in front of Matthew's face.

"Stop staring at him, doofus," he says. "You're practically eating him up with your eyes."

Matthew's face slightly flushes and he scowls at Alfred.

"I'm not _eating him up with my eyes _Alfred, don't be stupid."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Alfred closes the locker door, and then looks down to the group. More people have joined, eager to tell Gilbert Alejandro Garcia's whereabouts.

"I'm not surprised that fucker's hiding." Matthew hears Gilbert say, and Antonio and Christensen give out a slight cackle at this. He sees Arthur joining the crowd, slapping Gilbert's back and whispering something into his ear. A smug grin crosses Gilbert face as he slams the locker door shut. His gait has gone from a march to a saunter, as he starts moving towards the main stairs.

"C'mon," Alfred says, and grabs onto Matthew's forearm, pulling him along with the crowd.

By the time they make it out of the school, the crowd of students eager to see a fight has grown exponentially. Some of them are Gilbert's friends, and most of them are just blood-thirsty spectators. Matthew protests, and tries to prevent Alfred from dragging him along, but when his friend's determined, he's also strong. By the time they have gotten to the field, an equally impressive mob is already there, waiting, and at the front stands a lanky, tanned boy with a grin as cocky as Gilbert's.

"Yo! Beilschmidt! You showed up!"

"The fuck I did, Garcia. Are you gonna run away like last time?"

Ever the efficient people, the crowd falls into a circle almost immediately, with Gilbert and Alejandro standing across from each other in the middle, sneering at each other. Matthew is thankfully only in the middle of the crowd, still persuading Alfred that no, he won't fight.

"C'mon Matt, it's your time to be a hero!"

"I don't want to be a hero, Al! I don't want to just randomly jump in there and _defend _him or something!"

"Yes you do! You need to go save the damsel in distress!"

Matthew is glad that the people around him are too busy causing a commotion, yelling at the two boys in the middle to get it started, otherwise he is sure that someone would tell Gilbert that he had just been referred to as a damsel in distress. The first intimate contact with Gilbert that Matthew wants to have does not include his own face being bashed in by the other.

"What am I going to do? Just go in there and say, _Oh I don't want you to get hurt or we won't be able to finish our project_?"

"That's such an awesome idea! You should totally say that to him!"

"Alfred!" Matthew tries to yank his arm back, to no avail. "Damn it, Al, I said no! I don't fight, eh?"

"Well, you will!"

"I don't think I know him _that well_! I can't just jump in there with him in the hopes that he'll like me!"

"You can, and you will, Matthew Williams!"

Alfred wheels around, and looks at Matthew with a very serious stare as the people around them bustle.

"Matthew Williams." He begins, his voice firm. "Listen to me."

"No."

"Well, fuck you. There comes a time in a boy's life where he needs to shank a bitch. Here's your shank." Alfred lifts up one of Matthew's wrists, then points to Alejandro. "There's your bitch."

"Uh, I really don't think that's a good idea..." Matthew trails off, but Alfred has already started pulling Matthew deeper into the crowd. They shove through people till they are oh so close to the circle, where Gilbert and Alejandro are still spitting insults in each other's faces.

"I'm going to fucking cave your face in, Beilschmidt." Alejandro says, spitting in Gilbert's direction, and Gilbert dodges.

"Oh, I'm scared." Gilbert replies, raising his arms and stepping towards Alejandro. "All you've been doing is talking shit for the past few weeks, and you can't even make a fucking blow."

Alejandro narrows his eyes, and shoves Gilbert forcefully in the chest.

"Don't get too close, fag." He sneers, and the crowd ooh's.

"Afraid you'll get some homo, Garcia?" Gilbert's eyebrow twitches but he keeps a cool facade. "Does it matter? As if you get any girls in the first place."

He punctuates that sentence with shoving Alejandro hard enough that he stumbles back into the crowd. Someone pushes him back out, and the guy looks ready to kill.

"Al, I really don't want to do this." Matthew whispered, but Alfred ignores him and continues dragging him.

"Fuck yeah, you do! Bro, this is your time to be a hero!"

"I'd rather be a bystander." Matthew mutters, and digs his heels into the ground. The attempt is futile, and they are right in the inner ring.

"I don't want to hit you too hard, _Gilly, _you might be too sore from whoever gave it to you up your ass last night." Matthew hears and cringes.

"Get at me, bitch."

"Now go in there and show them what you got." Alfred whispers, as he nudges Matthew.

"I don't fight!" Matthew hisses, but unfortunately the person standing beside them happens to be Francis, and has heard snippets of their conversation.

"Oh, Matthew, you wanna fight?" Francis asks, and Matthew shakes his head vigorously while Alfred nods. But it's too late.

"Fight?"

"Someone else wants to fight?"

"Sweet! Bring him in!"

"But I thought it was only Garcia and Beilschmidt!"

"Who cares? Bring him in!"

"Fuck yeah!"

"Bring him in!"

"They call for you, young one." Alfred says as the crowd starts to chatter loudly, looking for the new challenger. With the help of Francis, who thinks Matthew having Gilbert's back is a _terrific _idea because now he doesn't have to sweat any, Alfred shoves Matthew into the circle. Matthew stumbles into it, separating Gilbert and Alejandro who have started to push each other. Both boys step back, bewildered as Matthew stands cowering between the two, facing Alejandro.

And as instantly as it came, the tanned boy's startled expression disappears, and is replaced with a wicked smirk.

"One of yours, Beilschmidt? Is this seriously the best you can do?"

"Oh _shit_." Matthew mumbles, as everyone's eyes fall on him. Suddenly, he wishes things were boring again.

* * *

K so in my head/this AU, Gilbert's a total baller. Well, almost a total baller. As baller a high school guy can get. So's Alfred. I can totally imagine them being the wanksters who spin circles in the parking lot at 1 am. That means they're actually not baller. Welcome to the 'burbs.

Alejandro's an OC for Mexico that I'm considering and I wanna...sorta flesh out? idk XD I normally don't use OCs within fanfiction, they're not really my thing, but I've always wanted a Mexico. And I like making my characters the bad guys sometimes so -shrugs-

Reviews are reaaaally appreciated ~


	5. Chapter 5

**Relationship Status: It's Complicated**

Chapter Five

* * *

When he was younger, someone had pointed out the significance of the number three, and how it surrounds everyone. Matthew had developed a fascination with that number, and even though it's died out now, he still finds himself using it for certain situations.

Like the current one he is in, for example. He has already come to three conclusions in the past ten seconds he has been standing between Gilbert and Alejandro:

1. There seems to be no immediate escape out of the situation, which is admittedly one of the most awkward ones he has found himself in a long time.

2. He dislikes- no, he _hates_ Alfred F. Jones, and shall execute sweet and painful revenge upon him at a later time.

3. He is in _deep_ shit.

He is not the most eloquent with words, so his brain scrambles to find something to say. He cannot see Gilbert's expression because his back is turned to him, but he can see the slight glint of recognition in Alejandro's hazel eyes.

"U-uh, sorry for inter-interrupting!" He stammers as he tends to when extremely nervous, and Alejandro continues to stare. "I think- I think it'd be best if I just l-left now because I'm, um..."

"Well, well, well..." Alejandro says, raising an eyebrow as he fixes his red baseball cap over cropped black hair. "Look who it is."

Matthew tries to give a nervous smile, but the most he can do is make the corners of his lips twitch. "Hey Alejandro, h-how's it going?"

"Nice to see you, Williams."

A smirk is unfurling across Alejandro's face, and Matthew notes that it is very similar to the smile the boy wore when he tried to bully Matthew out of weed the other week. Out of all the people not to mistake Matthew Williams for Alfred F. Jones, Alejandro Garcia is unfortunately one of the few.

"Uh, Matthew?" A voice comes from behind and Matthew turns his head slightly to look back at Gilbert. He has that nervous smile again, this time a bit bigger, and he wants to slap himself for thinking _Oh, he remembered my name so quickly?_ because now is not the time to sound like an infatuated teenage girl.

"Oh, uh...hey Gilbert?"

"What...are you doing?"

Matthew turns his head back to Alejandro, as he wishes that he too knew the answer. He is about to open his mouth to say that this is an accident, he didn't mean to interrupt and that he will be going on his way now thank you very much. But before he can, Alejandro speaks.

"New _boy_friend, Beilschmidt?"

A few snickers run through the crowd and Matthew gets the sinking feeling that he is not getting out of this.

So Matthew puts both his hands up in a surrendering motion."I'm n-not his boy-boyfriend."

"Oh c-come on," Alejandro mocks Matthew's stutter, causing the other to redden even more. "I know y-you're a f-f-faggot too."

"Fuck off." Gilbert replies with eloquence before Matthew can. "He's not my boyfriend doucheface, so don't get jealous."

Alejandro raises his hands up and Matthew is pretty sure he is mocking him. Again.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot you're still horny after that piano boy. Isn't that why the Natalia chick rejected you? Too homo for her tastes?"

"Screw you." Gilbert spits and starts to sidestep Matthew. Matthew starts inching away sideways, hoping for escape but Alejandro steps forward and blocks him.

"Not so fast." he taunts Matthew. "If you're going to jump in to save your boyfriend, you're going to have to _stay_."

Matthew stiffens, then mumbles a "M'not his boyfriend, just his history partner."

Alejandro blinks then raises an eyebrow, as do the few other people who have heard the barely audible words. "Um, what?"

"I'm his partner for a project." Matthew repeats a bit louder and that stupid snicker runs through the crowd again. "Not boyfriend."

"...And you want to come fight for him."

_Tell him your dick bag of a friend dared you,_

_Tell him your dick bag of a friend pushed you into the fight,_

_Tell him your dick-bag of a friend..._

"Well y-you know, can't really have him...um, uh, can't have him risk getting...uh, injured or suspended or something because...um, then we can't work on our project and it's worth a lot of our mark and...yeah..." the last few words die out as Matthew registers everyone's amused expressions and out of pure nerves, the next words just spill out of his mouth. "Not that there seems to be much of a th-threat anyways."

Later on, Matthew will always look back at the moment and laugh at how awkward he is with words. Right now, he is just besting himself up on the inside for being stupid.

"What does that mean?" Alejandro's eyes narrow slightly and Matthew takes a step back. He bumps into Gilbert and whispers a sorry and Alejandro steps towards him again. Matthew opens his mouth but-

"What do you _think_ it means, dumbass? It means you're fucking weak."

Yes, of all the people that Gilbert has to get into a fight with, it has to be Alejandro Garcia, the boy who has been picking in Matthew since middle school. And of all the people that Matthew has to choose for a best bro, it has to be Alfred F. Jones, who thinks shoving someone in to a fight that they clearly do not want to fight is a way to win that person's crush over.

Alejandro shoots an extremely dirty look at Gilbert, then looks down at Matthew.

"I wouldn't be talking if I were you, Beilschmidt. At least I'm not a faggot."

"B-but _I_ am, and I k-know you don't really like m-me so I think I should really be going and it was nice talking to you Alejandro b-but I need to get home or I'm gonna be in tr-trouble, _okaybyeseeyouaround._" Matthew rushes his words, and turns his back to the two boys, making his way into the crowd. Unfortunately, before he can silently applaud himself, he is foiled by a hand that decides to grab the hood and yank him back. Matthew's eyes bug out as he comes face to face with Alejandro.

"I think I'll take care of you first, I think." The taller boy sneers, and Matthew is pretty sure he's close to pissing himself because he's a peace-keeper, not a peace-maker and if there's peace to be made he'd rather someone else do it. Alejandro moves his arm, but for what Matthew does not know because by instinct, he grabs it and squeezes before the other has a chance to do anything.

"P-please don't Alejandro, don't hit me. I don't want to hit you back and hurt you." Matthew tightens his grip on the other's arm, trying to give a pleading look. Alejandro narrows his eyes, and Matthew realizes immediately that he has said the wrong things and has indirectly insulted Alejandro's masculinity and strength while making the crowd go _ooh_. And for a teenager, that is very serious business, and all that is needed to start something physical.

"Eat shit." Alejandro snaps, and spits on Matthew. The glob lands on Matthew's glasses, obscuring a lens and preventing him from catching what happens in the next split second. Alejandro draws his free arm back, and delivers a very impressive right hook. Matthew staggers back, cheekbone hurting like a _bitch, _and the crowd ooh's louder. As a slightly surprised Gilbert catches him just in time, his eyes tear up in pain, and everything seems to pause for what seems like an eternity. Then, three things happen.

First, Matthew Williams has been pushed a little too much too soon, and has gone into a super "defensive" mode. People who have seen him on ice know that unlike his defensive mode where he just shoots verbal insults, his super defensive mode is where he gets_ violent. _Irritation, fear and pain combined blinds reasoning and makes Matthew forget the whole "oh fuck, if Zwingli catches us" issue and he immediately lunges forward and clocks Alejandro in the jaw.

Second, Alejandro replies by punching Matthew in the gut and winding him hard, all while keeping his cool and _For a fag, Williams, that was pretty impressive but ya gotta do better if you're gonna get into Beilschmidt's pants.  
_

Third, Gilbert Beilschmidt and Alfred F. Jones are not impressed with Alejandro, to say the least. Alfred, who has realized that oh, this is actually a real fight where his best friend might just get his ass kicked, seizes the opportunity as Matthew keels over from a second punch and tries to lurch into the fight. Arthur grabs onto the back of Alfred's bomber jacket and pulls him back, because an agitated Gilbert has already pounced on Alejandro. People are shouting as he shoves Alejandro, causing him to fall back into the crowd. Someone pushes him out again, and he manages to deck Gilbert in the stomach as Matthew starts to stand up again.

Matthew grabs the collar of Alejandro's shirt and yanks on it, causing Alejandro to stumble towards him with a disgusted face.

Alejandro grabs Matthew by the throat, and this time Alfred doesn't let Arthur hold him back and he grabs the back of Alejandro's t-shirt, enough for Matthew to pry the hand away from his throat.

Alejandro's "people", three burly seniors, fall into the fight as well and all too soon it is a flurry of fists with an enthusiastic crowd cheering them on because it has been a long time since there has been a _real _fight at the school and this shit is getting filmed and will be all over the internet. Even though the fight was originally supposed to be between Gilbert and Alejandro, somehow seven people are throwing considerable hits and the kids are just eating it up.

"What the hell is going on!"

And then, being mood killers, a third party starts shouting, and Vargas, Braginski, and the principal, a murderous fellow by the name of Vash Zwingli,are running towards the crowd.

"Fuck, the teachers are coming!"

After a few have stated the obvious, everyone decides that booking it out of there is the wisest decision.

With an efficiency and speed never demonstrated within school or class, the teenagers immediately disperse, scampering off into various directions before they are recognized. Alfred wants to grab Matthew and run, but Arthur and Francis pull him away because Vargas, the fastest of them all, is getting_ really _close.

It seems that there are only three people who are willing to finish up what has been started.

Gilbert has got Alejandro in a head lock this time, and Alejandro is punching his way out and- oh, _damn_, Alejandro has just elbowed Gilbert in the face. Gilbert lets go and staggers backwards and Matthew, who has just freshly escaped the three friends of Alejandro's that tried to hit him on their way out, catches him by the shoulders and steadies him.

"Did you break your nose?" He asks, his voice shrill as he sees the red trickle out of Gilbert's nose. "Holy shit, there's blood-"

"Kid, shut up." Gilbert cuts him off, wiping blood off his upper lip with a sleeve. "Oh fuck me, Zwingli's here."

Adrenaline is slowly fading out an being replaced with panic in Matthew as he sees the intimidating man with the hair of a soccer mom approach closer and closer. In a split second, without thinking, he has grabbed on to Gilbert's sleeve and has started to run in the general direction of somewhere. Along with Gilbert's sleeve comes the rest of him, and Gilbert yells out an indignant "What the hell?" as he is pulled by away this kid that he really doesn't know all too well but follows after anyways because hey, he stepped into a fight for him.

Even if it was so that they can do their history project.

...Yeah, that was a little weird.

* * *

Being used to having to pull Alfred out of messy situations and book it somewhere safe one too many times leads Matthew to run to a certain place on autopilot, dragging Gilbert along with him. By all means he should have left Gilbert off somewhere instead of dragging him home, but Alfred is always telling Matthew to live life with no regrets. Then again, they've been running for a few minutes and Matthew _had_ let go of Gilbert some time ago so technically Gilbert followed him home so it's not his fault and he's going to have remember to explain this all to Gilbert because the teen has decided to talk.

They've slowed down to a fast walk and are a block or two away from Matthew's house, both panting, with Matthew keeping his eyes on the ground and Gilbert staring at the blond.

"Hey...kid...Matthew!" Gilbert says in between breaths, as he keeps up with the other. "What was that?"

"What...what was what?" Matthew replies, placing a hand over his stomach to steady his breathing. His driveway comes into view, and he squints."Oh shit, I hope no one's home."

"Um...okay. And what was that back there? At the fight?"

"I have no clue." Matthew replies, his voice sounding distracted as they get closer to his house, even though on the inside he is hyperventilating. The fight has drained him of energy, and he doesn't stutter. "Good, no one's home. You want to come over? You can wash up there."

Gilbert frowns, then grabs Matthew's shoulders, bringing them to a complete stop. Matthew blinks at the sudden action then averts his gaze to his house as if checking for something.

"Why?" Gilbert asks, to which Matthew replies dumbly, "Because there's blood on your face?"

Gilbert raises a hand up to his face, and feels the slightly caked blood. "True, but no. Why the hell did you jump into the fight?"

"Uhm..." Matthew scrapes his mind for an appropriate answer, apparantly not fast enough.

"Because I'm pretty sure that, as awesome as I am, you sure as hell didn't save me for a _history project._"

"Yeah, um, you're right." Matthew laughs uneasily, scratching the side of his head. "Uh, well, it's kind of a funny story, and..."

"I got time."

"Well... my friend kind of pushed me into the fight, and...are you sure that you don't want to come over and clean up?"

Gilbert raises an eyebrow, but complies anyways and the two start to walk towards the house.

* * *

"Yes!" Alfred fist pumps, smiling wide even with the fat lip he has as a souvenier from the fight which he doesn't care about anymore because he gets into lots of other fights anyways. "Hell yes, Matt!"

"Will you shut the hell up?" Arthur hisses, pulling Alfred's arm back down. "You're going to attract attention!"

"I do not think that the teachers will be looking for anyone right now. Especially not here." Francis comments, as he plucks at the grass idly. "And no one's home."

Arthur grumbles something unintelligible and drops his head back to the ground. The trio are currently under a trampoline in an unknown person's backyard. It is one of the few houses that line the far field of the school, giving a decent view of whatever is happening.

When they had been running away, Alfred had suggested jumping someone's fence to get away and it had seemed like a good idea at the time because the curtains in the house were all drawn and they came to the logical conclusion that that meant there was nobody home. For "a good safety measure", they are currently hiding underneath a huge trampoline, lying on their stomachs while watching out of the wired backyard fence.

"Ah, I wonder where Matthew is taking him." Francis muses. "Perhaps somewhere secluded and romantic? Like maybe a park or something?"

"Nah, Matt wouldn't do that." Alfred replies. "He's too chicken. Probably just took him to his own house."

"Or nowhere." Arthur mutters. "Probably just let him go home like a_ normal_ person, Jones."

"Whatever, Kirkland. He's not lame like you, so I'm sure he did _something_."

"And I'm sure he's not stupid like you, so I'm sure he did nothing."

"Dude," Alfred scoffs. "I set him up, he should be grateful that he got such an awesome opportunity."

"You shoved him into a fight." Francis points out, earning a scathing look from Alfred. "That might have been taking it a bit _too_ far."

"You helped me." Alfred says, and Francis shrugs.

"Your point?"

* * *

They are in the kitchen of Matthew's house, Matthew sitting on the L-shaped kitchen counter watching nervously as Gilbert stands by the sink, holding wet tissue to his nose. Matthew isn't sure how to check broken noses, but Gilbert is and he has assured Matthew for about the millionth time now that _dude, my nose is too fucking awesome to be broken._

"Is everything okay?" Matthew asks, and Gilbert grunts in response, throwing the wad of blood-stained tissue onto the growing pile by the sink.

"Look, um, I'm really sorry for jumping into the fight..." Matthew begins. Gilbert doesn't respond, and he takes it as his cue to continue on. "Uh, my friend Alfred pushed me in before I could say anything and I really didn't want to fight but he pushed me in anyways and Alejandro doesn't like me in the first place and I think that he just wanted an excuse to go at me-"

"Dude."

"Yeah?"

"You've already told me."

"I know."

"Four times."

"I'm sorry."

"Five."

Matthew presses his lips together and grimaces, but to his immense relief Gilbert lets out a light chuckle and turns.

"Do I still have some blood on my face?" He asks, poking his upper lip and Matthew shakes his head. "Thanks, kid."

"No problem." Matthew gives a small smile, and gets down from the counter. "Do you wanna eat anything...?"

"Nah I'm good. Let me just call my brother to get him to pick me up."

Matthew walks over to his fridge to get something for himself as Gilbert pulls out his cellphone, while searching his brain for conversation material. He knows that Alfred has prepped him many times on the art of flirting, but right now he just wants to actually get a not-awkward conversation going. While he looks for food worthy of impressing the boy in his kitchen even if said boy won't eat it, he catches snippets of the words "fight" and "Oh shut up, you're used to it" in the phone conversation that is held, for the most part, in German. His ears perk up when he hears his name in the conversation, but drop again when he hears a "Oh, you don't know him? He's that kid that's always with Jones" in English. He pulls out a plastic container of cold spaghetti, and takes a fork from a nearby drawer.

"Brother?" He asks, and Gilbert nods as he hangs up.

"He's like...ten minutes away or something. One of his buddies lives near here and he was over at their place so he'll come to pick me up."

"Ah." is all that Matthew says as he takes in a forkful of spaghetti. A silence stretches over them, with Matthew back on top of the counter eating with intense concentration and Gilbert standing across from him, staring.

They remain like this for a whole minute or so, then Gilbert speaks.

"Look, um...Matthew." Now _he _sounds slightly uneasy, but in a slightly different way. "Next time, don't worry about it."

"Don't worry about what?"

"You don't have to fight on my behalf."

"Uh..." Matthew blinks. "It was an accident?"

"I know." Gilbert says simply. "But you don't have to run off with me, I can escape on my own."

Matthew stares, then feels red start to creep into his face. Oh, he was going to _kill _Alfred for putting him in such an awkward situation.

"Er, it was just the...It was just adrenaline, and I get really nervous and..." Matthew gestures with his fork vaguely. "I saw the blood on your face and got nervous, and, um...I just panicked I guess, eh?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Gilbert waves him off. "I know you wanted to protect the awesome that is me, but I'm pretty sure you're gonna find a bunch of shitty bruises in the shower. And as much as it touches me that my _history partner _would do that for me, it's just kinda...you know..."

"Awkward." Matthew supplies.

"Pretty much." Gilbert flashes a grin, and Matthew laughs.

"Yeah, don't worry, next time Alfred tries to shove me into a fight, I'll check that I'm actually _friends_ with that person." Matthew says, and Gilbert's smile falters slightly. Oops. "Oh shit, I didn't mean that I hate you or some-"

"Don't worry kid, I get it."

"...Okay."

Matthew goes back to eating his spaghetti, and this time Gilbert does not watch him. Instead, he stands and taps his fingers absent mindedly on the counter beside him as Matthew thanks the powers that be that Rupert hasn't come home yet, and that he wasn't home in the first place. Minutes tick by, and Gilbert's phone starts to vibrate. At the same time, there is a car honking outside.

"Looks like my ride's here." Gilbert says, and Matthew slides off the counter. He walks him to the door, unlocking it for the teen. He wants to say one last thing before Gilbert leaves, but he's not sure what. Maybe he should ask him when they should get together next to work on their history project?

"Hey, kid." Gilbert says as he steps on to the porch, and Matthew is saved the trouble yet again of starting a conversation.

"Yeah?"

"You were pretty good out there."

"Oh, um..." Matthew gives a small smile. "Thanks?"

"Yeah. If you do that for a project partner, I can't imagine what you'd do for a friend." Gilbert winks at that, and Matthew, bless his heart, manages to not blush like a little girl.

"Maybe if you were my friend, we'd still be out there fighting." Matthew jokes, and the next few words would probably have Alfred squealing in happiness (or commenting on the slow mover that happens to be Matthew.)

As Gilbert steps towards the white BMW parked in the drive way -Matthew vaguely remembers someone telling him that the Beilschmidt's are rich as _fuck_ and these kinds of cars are minor expenses-, he turns his head to look at Matthew and says

"Then maybe you should be my friend, kid."

* * *

The phone rings, and caller ID identifies the caller to be of the Williams household.

"Hello?" Alfred replies, voice chipper from having wheedled a couple of burgers out of Francis and Arthur after they escaped the backyard.

_"Alfred Fucking Jones, I will murder you."_

"Oh hey Matt! How'd it go with Gilbert?"

_"I will dump you in the lake with cement shoes."_

"Did you manage to get anywhere with him?"

_"I will put you through a meat grinder then feed you to my cat."_

"Oh c'mom, I set you up so perfectly!"

_"I will tell Braginski where you live."_

"..."

_"Yeah. Then you can't use the Natalia thing on him."_

"...So something _did_ happen, right?"

* * *

Gilbert slides into the passenger seat of the car, throwing his jacket in the back as his brother gives him a disapproving nod.

"I can't believe you got the boy into a fight and made him patch you up." Ludwig says as he puts the gear into reverse. "Why?"

"He did it out of his own will." Gilbert says, pulling on a seat-belt much too slowly for his anal retentive brother. "Stop blaming shit on me."

"It _is_ usually your fault." Ludwig murmurs as he turns his head to check the road. "I'm surprised though. He doesn't look like type of guy to fight."

"So?" Gilbert shrugs. "You're like the hulk and no one would guess you're as gay as a rainbow on the inside."

Ludwig frowns as he pulls out. As soon as they are on the road, he scowls at Gilbert while putting the car into drive. "I'm not as gay as a rainbow."

"You're gayer than a double rainbow." Gilbert taunts, and Ludwig rolls his eyes.

"Don't say such derogatory things." He scolds, and Gilbert decides to use it to his advantage. After all, it means that he'll be putting off the explanation for the fight for later.

"You think being called gay is derogatory?"

"_No_, the way you're using it-"

"Who said I was using it in a bad way?"

"Your tone and attitu-"

"Holy crap, are you implying _you're_ homophobic?" He continues to prod, while slightly admiring his brother's ability to drive and look angry at the same time.

"What, no!" A faint red shade starts to wash across Ludwig's face as he knows Gilbert and can figure where it is going.

"But I thought you stripped for boys online! Remember last week?"

Yes, Ludwig's right.

"I was not _stripping_!"

He was merely comparing the results of an intensive weight training program with another male student via webcam. It really wasn't his fault that Gilbert walked in right at the moment where he was taking of his shirt in order to flex and it _really_ wasn't his fault that maybe his chest seemed a bit shinier than before, almost like it had been through a waxing job or something...

"Suuure."

With that, Gilbert puts his hand behind his head and leans back into the seat, smirking at the conversation he's won and the topic he's diverted. Then again, he thinks to himself, he shouldn't really be surprised because he's just awesome like that.

The phone rings, and ominous battle music floats from Gilbert's pocket. He groans and pulls his cell out, and gives it a long hard stare.

"Pick it up." Ludwig says. "He'll get you anyways."

"That's what I'm afraid of." Gilbert says, sighs, and picks up the phone.

"_Guten tag, Herr Beilschmidt_." Gilbert says, greeting his grandfather in his most polite voice and causing Ludwig to roll his eyes yet again. "How are you doing this fine day?"

_"Gilbert?" _Comes a stern voice from the other end, and Gilbert totally does not cringe slightly because even his stern father can intimidate his awesomeness, not at all._  
_

"At your service."

_"Where are you and your brother?"_

"Coming home. We're...ten minutes away."

_"Good, because I received a call from your principal."_

"You did?" Gilbert tries and puts on his best innocent voice. "That's great! What did Vash want this time? Is he inviting us over again? Because last time, I thought he said that he never wanted me ov-"

_"Gilbert."_

"I'm listening."

_"I got a call from _Mr. Zwingli _that he saw you engaged in some physical altercation and you ran away as he approached you."_

"Well, technically, I didn't _run away_ because I don't run away from fights because that's not awesome. Some kid just pulled me away and-"

_"Even after all my warnings you got into a fight?"_

"It wasn't_ my _fault, well technically not because I didn't start the _actual _fight, at least not the physical part at least-"

_"Gilbert Beilschmidt."_

"Yessir?"

_"Get home."_

"On my way, sir."

There is a click on the other end as Gilbert's grandfather hangs up and Gilbert gives an uneasy laugh as he tries to casually put away his phone. He looks over to his brother, who is looking straight ahead at the road with his lips pressed tight.

"Don't look so smug." He huffs at his brother.

"I'm not." Ludwig replies, but the corners of his mouth are quirking.

"Bastard."

* * *

Don't let anyone ever fool you guys, suburban high school fights are 90% of the time the lamest things ever. Or so I've seen.


	6. Chapter 6

**Relationship Status: It's Complicated**

Chapter Six

* * *

Two things have surprised Matthew. First, he actually earned an apology from Alfred the morning following the fight. From someone who deems every action heroic, this is a big thing. Matthew can't help be a little suspicious.

Second, it is Sunday afternoon and he is currently walking to the local coffee shop because he is meeting up with _Gilbert Beilschmidt_. And it was the other teen that had asked him if he wanted hang out.

And there's definitely not a reason behind him picking out one of his nicer dark jeans to wear, and forgoing his standard red CANADA hoodie for a moss-green zip up and actually cleaning his glasses for a change.

Gilbert hadn't come to school for the rest of the week, and Matthew heard from Alfred who heard from Antonio that Gilbert's old man had figured out what Gilbert had done, and Gilbert had been subjected to being a janitor at one of the restaurants his family owned instead of being suspended because apparently the principal and Gilbert's grandfather knew each other very well.

On Saturday night, Matthew had been lying on his bed, taking to Kumawhatsit again when his phone had rung. He ignored it for the first ring or two, but then he decided to check caller ID and nearly had a heart attack when he saw who he had been unintentionally avoiding. He quickly composed himself and answered the phone. Gilbert said something about meeting up the following afternoon to talk about their history project or something vague.

It took him a split second to say yes over the phone rather enthusiastically, and then a phone call to Alfred to make sure Matthew didn't call back in ten minutes and tell Gilbert that he was in fact busy Sunday afternoon and couldn't make it, totally not due to the amount of nerves building.

Alfred had enthusiastically coached Matthew on things to do, such as which pick up lines were appropriate and which foods could be seductively eaten. Matthew hadn't bothered to commit anything to memory, and now he is regretting it as the building is getting larger and larger on the horizon,

He is admittedly a bit worried, because he is five minutes later than the time the two had agreed on, and because he's going to go meet up with his crush at a coffee shop.

Alright, so maybe aforementioned crush was in his house just the other day, but that was under a different circumstance. This almost seems like a date, though Matthew knows he is over-exaggerating. People hang out with other people all the time, and Matthew's brain is just on hyper drive because _the guy who he's wanted for eight whole months_ called and asked him out.

Well, not asked him out.

Matthew believes his exact words were _"Yo, wanna chill sometime? We need to talk over the shit for our history project and stuff like that" _but Matthew doesn't keep track of things like that.

That wasn't a request for a date, but still. It was from _Gilbert fucking Beilschmidt and oh god he's standing outside with Francis and Alfred I'm going to fucking kill Alfred goddammit._

Indeed, chatting animatedly with Gilbert is Alfred in his favourite McDonald's t-shirt and bomber jacket, and Francis with his hair tied up and in a fashionable spring coat, and any slight semblance of a date is entirely steamrolled.

Before he can debate whether or not Alfred has done this on purpose or not, Alfred spots him and gives a big grin and a wave. Matthew musters up a smile and waves back, and Francis and Gilbert are continuing to talk to each other. They do not seem to acknowledge Matthew until Matthew has approached the group and clears his throat. It's not very loud, but it gets their attention anyways.

"Look who I ran into!" Gilbert grins, gesturing towards Alfred and Francis. Francis winks in return, and Matthew knows that bastard is just doing it so that he can make Matthew blush but he'll be damned if he caves into it.

"Hello Francis." He manages to say politely, nodding in the direction of the two blonds. "Alfred."

"What are y'all doing here?" Alfred asks in an obvious tone of mock curiosity, and Matthew knows he is a step away from a shit-eating grin.

"Uh...just getting some history stuff done, I guess."

"Charming." Francis replies, and Matthew stops himself from narrowing his eyes at _his_ tone. Francis catches that slight twitch in Matthew's eyes, and strides past the group to open the door to the shop with great flourish. "Well, shall we?"

As soon as they step into the building, the strong smell of coffee and baked goods hits Matthew's nose. He scans the place, which is fairly crowded.

"Uhm..." He says, trying not to sound nervous. "You want me to go save all of us a seat?"

"Hmm?" Gilbert sounds distracted, as his eyes rake over the menu. "You say somethin'?"

Matthew is about to repeat himself, but Francis cuts in. Because Francis always hears Matthew, even if Matthew doesn't want him to, always leading to slightly embarrassing situation.

"Ah, well, there's no need for that, _Mathieu_," He says Matthew's in the name in the most French way possible, to irk the boy. "Alfred and I have some _private_ business to discuss, and we'll be sitting by ourselves."

Matthew casts a questioning glance towards Alfred and Alfred's grin is wider than before.

"Yeah, so I guess you and Gilbert will have to just sit _alone_, by yourselves," A swift and hopefully subtle kick to Alfred's calves does not deter him. "Far away from us, just you two."

Gilbert, meanwhile, seems to be completely oblivious to the conversation, as he mutters under his breath as to which donut would be a better investment. Ignoring Alfred, who is in the middle of some lewd comment or the like, Matthew does something he considers rather brave and pokes Gilbert's shoulder.

"Hmm?"

"I'm going to, uh, save us some seats by the window. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, sure. Want me to get you something?"

Matthew digs into his pocket, and pulls out a five dollar bill.

"Uhm, a hot chocolate, if that's okay."

"Nothing else?"

"Er...ehm, nope." Matthew can see Alfred visibly wincing at the slightly awkward exchange, and decides that now is the best time to just walk away.

* * *

As Matthew stalks away, Alfred catches Gilbert (and Francis) eying the blond up and down.

"Like what you see?" He says half in jest, wondering which combination of donuts to get. He doesn't expect an answer (from Gilbert), so is mildly surprised when he receives one.

"Not bad. So He's the kid who likes me, right?"

Alfred chokes on air at this sudden, interesting revelation.

"Wait, what? You _know_?"

"Well, yeah." Gilbert replies casually. "That's what I was told."

"Who did?" Alfred gawps at Gilbert for a second, before Francis does him a favour and closes his jaw with his index finger. "Shit son, I was going to tell you just now. What a kill joy."

"I did." Francis replies airily, eying one of the girls behind the counter. "Keeping things a secret is so _blasé. _Love and all things entailing it should be spread and known."

Alfred blinks, and then shrugs. "If Matt finds out, it's you he'll kill."

"And what about when he finds out who told _me_?"

"Which he won't, because I'll have to choke you or something."

"Ladies," Gilbert snaps his fingers to get their attention. "Let's focus on what is important. Which is me."

"How long have you known?" Alfred asks, and Gilbert looks at Francis.

"After the fight actually. Francis called me, and just brought it up." Gilbert shrugs again, as he starts to dig through the pockets of his torn jeans for a wallet. "And I figured might as well try it. So I called him up and asked if he wanted to hang out so I can see if his awesome levels are worthy of my attention."

"Does he know it's a date?"

"Did I say it was a date?"

"How the hell would I know?"

"I said _hang out_, not _date._ There's a difference, man." There is a momentary break in conversation as the trio shuffles up to the counter to place their orders, Francis going with Alfred to the attractive cashier and Gilbert going up to the other free cashier, a surly looking twenty something.

Making use of their teenage-boy metabolisms, Gilbert and Alfred each order a box of twelve donuts in addition to drinks, while Francis chooses a more normal cup of coffee.

Leaning on the granite counter, they continue talking as the workers prepare their orders.

"So," Alfred says. "You're interested in Matt? What happened to whatshisface...Rodreich? Didn't Alejandro say you were still after him or something?"

"Alejandro likes to talk out of his ass," Gilbert snorts. "That's why I had to beat it up. I'm not after him, because I don't stoop to levels as low as piano-playing, indecisive douche bags."

"Right."

"Plus," Gilbert adds, throwing down a couple of bills and change as the box of donuts is placed on the counter, followed by a medium coffee and a hot chocolate. "Your friend is decent looking, and backed me up in the fight because _some _fruits don't want to break their nail."

"Sorry for being one of the few people who cares about their looks." Francis scoffs, pretending to look offended. "Unlike you, I don't think cuts and bruises complement my face."

"Yeah yeah, whatever floats your boat."

"And happens to float the boat of many other self-respecting people too-"

"Out of curiosity, isn't that breaking the bro code though?" Alfred cuts in, seeing nothing of value in their little argument. "The whole checking out ex's thing?"

"It doesn't apply to Francis." Gilbert waves Alfred off. "He dates everyone. If I followed the code with Francis, I'd be single forever."

"True." Alfred gives a knowing nod. Gilbert looks over his shoulder as the cashier hands him the receipt, seeing Matthew sitting by the window and staring aimlessly out the window.

"Well," Gilbert says, picking up the box of donuts and balancing the two cups on top. "My admirer awaits, so I'm going to grant him his wish and grace him with some awesome."

Francis coughs, the word _desperate_ hidden somewhere in the sound, and Alfred snickers. Gilbert flips them off, and walks toward where the quiet blond is sitting.

* * *

Matthew snaps out of a daydream involving him not stumbling with words and charming the socks (and maybe the rest of his clothes because hey, he's a teenage guy) off Gilbert instead of repelling him, as Gilbert plonks down in the seat across the table, and sets down the food.

"Here's your five." The other boy says, tossing a crumpled bill towards Matthew. Matthew raises an eyebrow as he takes the bill, and Gilbert explains. "I paid."

"Y-you did?" Matthew stutters, his mind already on overdrive from being in the shop in the first place _with Gilbert Beilschmidt because I'm so damn nervous I need to stress every time I think his name._

"Think of it as payback for the fight." Gilbert shrugs, then adds with a wink. "Don't get used to it though."

Matthew blinks.

He winked at him.

He _winked_ at him.

In his mind, Matthew has already reached first base with Gilbert.

"Thanks." Matthew mutters, taking cardboard cup off the box of donuts. He can see from the corner of his eye, Alfred and Francis sitting a few tables away and not bothering to hide the fact that they are full on creeping them. Gilbert, for some reason, doesn't notice, and he and Alfred attack their donuts in a near-synchronized time and fashion.

Matthew notes the two are near identical in the way they vacuum up food, and while it is unattractive and slightly disgusting when Alfred does it, he finds it rather endearing in the platinum haired teen.

He supposes that is what happens when your love goes unrequited for months (mostly when it's your own fault for never making a move) and then suddenly your crush calls you up and asks if you want to chill and discuss your history project.

Or something like that.

Well, Gilbert isn't getting crumbs all over his black sweater, nor is he spraying Matthew with food, so that's got to count for something, right?

"Want one?" Gilbert offers, holding up a chocolate donut. It looks relatively safe, so Matthew takes it, and in a moment of what he perceives as shining brilliance, smiles as he says his thanks.

Gilbert grunts as he starts on his second donut, and Matthew sees Alfred has abandoned his food in favour of making vague thrusting motions towards Matthew, while Francis has an unimpressed expression.

"So...um...our history project?" He begins, sounding unsure as he is trying his best to ignore Alfred.

"Mmyeah?"

"...You wanted to talk about it?"

Gilbert pauses in his eating to look at Matthew, who hastily adds a, "I-if you want to, I mean" and looks down to fiddle with his cup of coffee

"Yeah, sure." He puts down the half-eaten donut. "What country were we doing again? Egypt, right?"

"Yeah, I think so. Did you...um, did you start any research?"

Gilbert shakes his head. "Nah man, but I guess we should, if we're going to figure out what we're going to do for the project in general."

"Uhm..." Matthew scrapes his brain for something witty to say. He can do it with ease around Alfred, but that is because he is usually insulting him, a route that he doesn't think will go down well if he tries it on Gilbert. "So...did your parents figure out about the fight?"

The question seems a little blunt to Matthew, but Gilbert answers with ease.

"Nah, my parents are abroad on some business shit. My grandpa tried to flay me alive though." Gilbert tch's. "He made me do _chores_ at the stupid restaurant."

"Yeah?" Matthew tries to act like he doesn't know what the restaurant's name is, even though he knows the location, the directions, and the appearance of the building by heart. "Where's the restaurant?"

"Not too far from here, actually." Gilbert replies. "You know that giant pizza place? Italy's Best or something, the one that Vargas said he worked at when he was a kid."

"Ohhh."

"Yeah. And it's all Zwingli's fault for telling gramps in the first place. Family friend my ass."

"You're family friends with Zwingli?" Of course, Matthew has already heard this from the rumor mill but it's always good to pretend you don't know as much as you actually do.

"Unfortunately." Gilbert rolls his eyes. "My dad and the temperamental douche bag are actually distantly related or some shit. So anything fun I do at school is reported back to the old man and I get in trouble."

"That sucks balls, dude." Matthew employs one of Alfred's most used lines, causing Gilbert to chuckle and Matthew to gain +100 points in his mind.

"Yeah, and I'm not that hard to spot either. Being albino is not that awesome sometimes."

"Albino, eh?" Matthew raises his eyebrows.

"Yeah, see?" Gilbert tugs his hair. "The doctor said that's why I'm pale as fuck."

"Does it count for you?" Matthew sees the slightly confused expression and continues on. "I mean, you're white anyways right? Isn't it just a higher stage of whiteness?"

Gilbert blinks, and stares at Matthew again. Matthew is about to apologize but then Gilbert bursts out into loud laughter.

_+1000 points for Matthew Williams, bitches._

"Good one, kid. But look," Gilbert says after he has slightly calmed down. Using his index finger, he pulls down his right eyelid, exposing more of his eyeball. He leans forward on the table, and Matthew assumes he is to do the same.

"See, my eye's supposed to be some violet colour or something." Gilbert rolls his eyeball around a bit, causing Matthew to gigg- chuckle slightly. "But it looks like it has flecks of red, which looks totally bad ass when it catches the right light."

Matthew simply hums in agreement, because if he says anything else, he's sure it will be incoherent because he's just so physically close to the other guy.

* * *

"_Mon Dieu,_" Francis comments, watching the two with great disdain. "Gilbert's trying to flirt."

"Really?" Alfred washes down his latest donut with a big gulp of hot chocolate.

"Unfortunately." Francis sighs. "If it makes you feel better, that means Matthew has managed to keep his short attention span."

"Awk_waaard_." Alfred drags on the syllable as he watches Matthew and Gilbert talk, Gilbert keeping his eyelid pulled as he talks animatedly and the distance between the two staying the same. At least Matthew's smile has gone from being awkward and forced to genuine. "God, it's so weird to watch these two. What happened to Gilbert being smooth?"

"Rumors." Francis picks up a donut from Alfred's box and contemplates eating it. "Merely rumors that he spreads himself. He's good at showing off and running smooth lines, but everything after that is embarrassing."

"Well," Alfred casts another look at the two, who have slumped back in their seats as Gilbert continues some surely glorious tale while Matthew eagerly listens. "Two negatives make a positive, right?"

"Let's hope."

* * *

Matthew now knows how it feels like to be a chick in a sappy romance movie, or a Taylor Swift song because according to his watch, he has been sitting for half an hour with Gilbert ranting on and on about tales ranging from how awesome he is, to how stupid other people are.

And the other has also thrown in a snide comment here or there about Rodereich Edelstein and Matthew does a little victory dance on the inside.

He hasn't spoken much during this exchange, sticking to mostly nodding and the occasional light laughter, and he has heard that Gilbert will speak endlessly to anyone who bothers to listen. But hey, he's a glass half-full type of person.

In the middle of Gilbert talking in a loud volume about something embarrassing Francis had done recently, earning withering looks from the blond, Matthew phone rings. He excuses himself from the mostly one-sided conversation for a second to answer the phone.

"Hello?"

_"Why the hell aren't you talking more?" _The voice on the other end demands. _"How the hell are you going to flirt with him? Telepathically send him all your wet dre-"_

Matthew hangs up, and slides the phone back into the pocket of his jeans. Gilbert gives him a questioning look, and he answers with a nervous laugh.

"Uhm, wrong number. Happens all the time. People usually think it's Alfred's number because the last four digits and the area code are the same."

"Yeah? That sucks."

"You're telling me." Matthew says, propping his hand up on the table and resting his head on his hand. He raises a finger to support his cheek, and it happens to be a middle finger. And it happens to be in Alfred's direction. "I get calls from all these weird people. Especially this one guy called Carlos Machado, who likes to call when he's drunk and angry."

"Machado...? Oh hey, I know him! The Cuban guy, right?"

"Yeah, I do too. He used to be my reading buddy when I was in grade three." Gilbert gives an amused look at this and Matthew continues. "I heard he's a bouncer at some club now."

"Yeup, and a totally bitchin' one too." Gilbert nods. "He lets me, Francis, and sometimes Toni in all the time."

"Really? Ah, you're so lucky. He really hates Alfred for stiffing him up on some money when we were in the ninth grade, so he won't let him in. And I'm not allowed in by association."

"Sucks. Then maybe you should come with us one time, eh? He'll let you in then."

Matthew smiles and nods.

In his mind, he has rounded third base.

* * *

A few tables across, Alfred is thrusting away again, ignoring Francis' chastising, while the French (_Parisian _and not _Canadian_ as he insists many times) teen pointedly looks away while people surrounding them snicker or look on in bewilderment.

* * *

When Matthew's cell rings again, an extremely dramatized version of Chopin's funeral march plays, indicating that it is a special caller on the other line.

"Sorry," He says sheepishly, interrupting Gilbert in the middle of an undoubtedly interesting story again. "I need to get this."

Gilbert crams a chunk of donut in his mouth and gives a thumbs up.

"Hello?" He says meekly, then winces at the tone at which Rupert talks to him, which is a rather peeved tone. "Yeah...yes, I told my mom I was going out...no I wasn't grounded for _that _long, I'm allowed to be out now, eh? Yeah, I _know _I'm supposed to get things from the grocery store, I told mom I'd pick them up on the way and she said that's fine."

Matthew lets out a loud sigh and narrows his eyes.

"Yes, I _did _just sigh loudly...I _do_ try to respect you...No, you're not like my father, _I _don't even know how my father's like... Yes I _know _you're the one who's cooking tonight... I'll just make my own food if you don't give me any, Christ."

Gilbert watches with some interest as the blond who has been quiet for the past while snaps at the person on the other line.

"Well then I'll go eat at Alfred's or someone's...well if it's out of question, what am I going to eat? Are you going to starve me or something? Yeah, thought so... Whatever, I'll come home now if you're going to be so insistent...Yes _sir_."

There is particular venom in the last few words as Matthew hangs up, then looks at the phone that has killed his mood.

"Shit." He says softly. "Maybe I shouldn't have done that."

"You okay, kid?" Gilbert asks, quirking an eyebrow slightly at the sour expression across the other boy's face.

"I guess. But I have to go now, erm..." Matthew hurriedly shoves his phone back in his pocket and stands up. "Thanks for the food."

"No problem..." Gilbert says, as Matthew forces a smile.

"I'll see you at school then." Matthew says, and Gilbert hums.

"Yeah, we should chill again later."

Matthew's ears perk up again and nods, hopefully not too enthusiastically.

"Um, okay, just...um...c-call, I guess?"

"Yeah. See you around, kid."

Matthew's smile is a bit more genuine as he hurries away before he says anything potentially shameful in front of Gilbert, and as soon as he is out of hearing range, he starts humming to himself. His stomach is skittering and though he is devising Rupert's demise in his head, he can't help but feel a little happy.

Gilbert leans against the chair, watching idly as Matthew walks out the shop and passes the window. The blond looks over his shoulder, and Gilbert smirks in return, raising up his hand in a lazy salute. He gets a hurried wave in return, and Matthew disappears out of sight.

The smirk falls, and Gilbert's expression turns neutral as he proceeds to cram the remaining half of a donut into his mouth. Francis quickly slides into Matthew's seat, and Alfred squeezes in between the table and the windowsill.

"The kid's pretty decent." Gilbert says, spraying crumbs as he speaks. Francis makes a face of disgust as he picks one that has landed on his shoulder, and Alfred doesn't appear to care. "When he actually talks. Why the hell is he so quiet?"

"_Je ne sais pas_" Francis purrs, as a fairly attractive girl walks by the table with her friend. He catches her eye and gives her a wink, earning a kick from Gilbert under the table. "Do not touch me, you barbarian."

"As I said before, he's very socially awkward." Alfred offers. "Being around you enhances it even more, since he's been crushing on you for like eight months now and hasn't had the balls to actually do anything."

"Sorry, what?" Gilbert blinks, while Francis sends Alfred an alarmed look. Alfred, for his part, continues to remain oblivious.

"Yeah, I mean, he's not the type to instantly go after someone the day he starts liking them. He's polite but not talky. Unless they don't go to our school or he's drunk at a party, and since he hasn't been drunk around you-"

"_Eight _months?"

"Yeah, didn't Francis tell you?"

Gilbert looks to Francis, who gives a glare in Alfred's direction.

"Dude, you said he's liked me for a few weeks."

"Looks like I'm not the only one with my ass getting kicked now." Francis murmurs, propping his elbows up on the table and folding his hands to rest his head on them.

"As long as he never knows, it's okay." Alfred waves the concern off, even though on the inside he has had a very big _Oh shit_ moment. "Anyways, so since you know, it'll make things much more easier for us. And by us I mean him."

"I didn't really see him drop any hints about him actually liking me or whatever."

Francis is in the middle of pointing out that it might be due to Gilbert's inability to focus in on anyone but himself, but Alfred cuts him off.

"Well yeah, he's not the type that will just tell you he likes you. He's a total chick like that. _You _have to ask _him _out or something."

"Alright." Gilbert shrugs. "Worth a shot, I guess. I'll call him later tonight or something, tell him I know he's liked me for for a long, almost bordering on creepy, amount of time, then ask if he wants to go on a legit date with the awesome that is me or something like that."

"Uh, no you're not. He's going to find out who told you, and I'm too young to die a torturous death." Alfred furrows his brow, thinking for a second. "Hang out with him more, like you guys are just friends. You know, like they do in chick flicks and shit."

"I 'ave to agree with Alfred 'ere." The same attractive girl from before walks by, and Gilbert loudly reminds Francis that he hasn't been to France in eight years. "Fine, you uncultured cretin. I was merely trying to make a good impression on that girl. Anyways, I think you should build up a rapport with the boy. After all, the more you know him, the more _interesting_ he is."

"Please stop." Alfred says, looking slightly disgusted. "You two are related."

"Mere technicality." Francis sniffs, tucking a strand of loose hair behind his ear. "If he was still willing, I would have continued."

"Maybe it's a good thing he stopped dating you." Gilbert makes a face, and Alfred nods. "Alright, since doing the logical thing and asking him for a legit date is out of the the question, what do you wise men suggest I do?""

"Well, I have a fifty dollar bet with him that he'll have to ask you out, and he says _you'll_ ask_ him_ out. That's also why you can't just go ask him out, because I don't have fifty bucks to give him."

Gilbert raises an eyebrow, and Alfred plows on.

"So instead, here's what you do..."

* * *

For those that don't know, Reading buddies in elementary school is when a person from an older grade pairs up with a munchkin and reads to them or stuff. Reviews are really appreciated!


	7. Chapter 7

**Relationship Status: It's Complicated**

Chapter Seven

* * *

It's Monday afternoon, and after a fairly awkward lunch where Alfred had ditched him leaving him to hang out with a bunch of people he didn't really know too well, Matthew has arrived to History early to find that there is a seating plan waiting for him, courtesy of Mr. Vargas.

The thing with seating plans is that Matthew has never looked forward to them. Being socially awkward around just about everyone in school, it takes him time to warm up to the person he's seated beside, if he manages to warm up to them at all. And teachers, for some godforsaken reason, always like to put the desk in pairs. Matthew does not like this for a few reasons.

a) It removes him from his front and center seat in the class, leading to situations like this where

b) He is sandwiched in between the window near the back of the class and Sadiq Adnan, who likes to listen to foreign rap music at loud volumes on his earphones. Matthew catches some English phrases, none which are too pleasant. This leads him to deduce that

c) Sadiq may or may not be thoroughly involved in the suburban equivalent of the "thug life", which does not bode well for Matthew, because last but not least

d) He cannot help but sneak a look at whom Sadiq is texting under the desk, and either he needs to change his prescription on his glasses, or the name of the receiver reads "Alejandro G."

So Matthew does what he's best at, and keeps quiet. Not like he needs to speak much anyways because as much as he will never ever admit it especially in the presence of a certain Alfred F. Jones who has been acting rather fishy during the past twenty four hours, he likes to stare.

Specifically at Gilbert.

Who's seated at the front of the column of desks, right beside that quiet Egyptian boy, Gupta.

Who, if Matthew remembers correctly, "stole" Natalia Arlovskaya from Gilbert. He knows at least half of it's true, because he has seen the two tentatively holding each other's hands in the hall when they think no one's looking. He makes a mental note to maybe thank Gupta, if he ever gets around to having conversation with the boy.

Gilbert frowns as he sits beside Gupta, but his face falls into neutrality. Matthew feels someone poke his shoulder, and turns to look at Sadiq.

"Yo."

"Uh... hey."

Rare is the occasion that his new seating buddies actually makes conversation with him, instead of vice cersa, so Matthew doesn't really know how to carry it on.

"Vargas snapped, eh?"

"...Sorry?"

"He's never made a seating plan before. Probably got all pissy over something."

"Oh..." Matthew has no idea what Sadiq's evidence has to do with his point, but he nods anyways. Everyone likes to attribute every little new thing teachers do nowadays to the fact that they are going slightly insane anyways, so Matthew is used to this.

"Yeah."

"Yeah..."

Sadiq pulls out something from his pocket and nudges Matthew again as Vargas begins his lesson on the beginning of the ancient Chinese civilization.

"Want one?" He says, offering Matthew a small carton. Matthew blinks at the offer, and figures that after eating a two day old sandwich he found in his locker, his breath needs freshening, so he takes a piece of gum.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it, kid."

That is the last interaction they have for the rest of the period, since Matthew decides to actually pay attention the Vargas' lecture, and during individual work time, Sadiq is blasting loud music again on his headphones. Francis comes over once or twice to ask for mundane things, such as a sharpener or a pencil, directing his questions specifically to Matthew who hands over the utensils with slight skepticism at Francis' innocent questions since the boy sits across the classroom beside Eduard von Bock, the nerd of all nerds.

Matthew is left to pity himself like a normal teenager, over how out of all the people in the class, he is stuck with the one guy who listens to songs about popping caps and texting someone who has previously tried to beat Matthew up.

Maybe if Matthew hung out with him more in grade six, back when they were both prepubescent and sat beside each other for art class, Matthew would not have this awkwardness floating around him and Sadiq. Maybe he too would have become a suburban thug.

But really, Matthew would prefer most of all to sit beside Gilbert. Because he was sure he would be able to start a witty conversation with the guy.

Even though they hadn't said a word to each other.

Even though they walked into the classroom at around roughly the same time.

Okay, so maybe it wouldn't be _witty_ conversation, but it would be _some _sort of conversation.

It would be better than the awkward exchange with Sadiq. Or the complete silence that has followed.

* * *

Later on, as he leaves the class room, he sees Francis walking in front of him with Gilbert. The blond nudges Gilbert and whisper something. Gilbert throws a glance over his shoulder, and Matthew sees Francis kick him.

As Gilbert turns back, Matthew wonders if something's up.

* * *

In Math, they have switched seating plans too. However, Matthew is used to it in this class, because he and Alfred are always placed at the two desks nearest to Braginski. The class has noticed this, and Alfred just brushes it off as he and Matthew being Braginski's two favourite students, a statement that causes Braginski's eye to twitch as he just smiles and laughs with the rest of the class.

"So, tell me what happened on Sunday." Alfred asks, as they have settled into their seats and Braginski takes attendance.

"I think I've told you ninety times already." Matthew replies, digging for his notebook in his backpack. "I'm not telling you again."

"Uh, I think we've already established that if you want help as good as mine, you need to provide information whenever I ask for it, so I can tell-"

"Alfred," Braginski interrupts, as Matthew's eyebrows shoot up. "It is individual work time."

"Your point?" Alfred says, voice petulant. Braginski is about to retort, but Alfred plows on as if the man is not sitting at the big desk, trying to smile as he glares at them.

"Anyways, as I was saying. You always hold back important stuff from me, like who likes me or who actually owes me money. So the least you can do is let me know how things are doing in your pathetic-"

"Did you just say you are _telling_ someone about this?"

Alfred blinks.

"Did _I _say that?"

"Alfred, don't tell me you told someone, I swear I will kill you and then-"

Alfred lets out a short bark of laughter, effectively cutting off Matthew and earning another withering look from Braginski.

"D'you hear that, Braginski?" Alfred exclaims loudly.

"I wish I didn't." Braginski replies. "You two should be working on your assignment, yes?"

"He thinks that I'd tell his biggest secret!" Alfred slaps Matthew on the back. "Good one, bro."

"Please stop bothering Matthew." Braginski says, voice terse. "Or I may have to move you across the room."

Alfred opens his mouth to speak again, and Matthew clamps his hand over his mouth.

"Shut up." He whispers.

The command is effective for five minutes, until it is Matthew that grows restless.

"You told someone, didn't you." He hisses, and Alfred ignores him. "You told someone that I liked Gilbert and you don't want to tell me."

Alfred looks up from the paper that he's suddenly started to work diligently on.

"Sorry," He says as innoently as possible. "Were you saying something?"

Matthew gasps. "You _told _someone, didn't you?"

"Sorry?"

"Alfred, I know where you live. Hell, I know where you sleep."

"Matt, I think we've already been over this. Am I not your best friend?"

"...Maybe."

"Then why would I tell your secret?"

Matthew stares at Alfred and then shrugs. "Personal entertainment?"

"Touché."

Matthew frowns, then waits until Braginski looks at something in his desk drawer to smack Alfred on the forehead.

"What the hell is wrong with you!" He whispers sternly. "You don't go around telling people my stuff, eh?"

"Ow-! You little bastard! I didn't say anything!"

"Yeah, really?"

"Yes, really! Don't get your panties in a bunch!" Alfred deflects a second hit, and Matthew scowls. Alfred sticks his tongue out at Matthew.

"Some thanks I get for being such an awesome, heroic best friend." He mutters, sticking his nose in the air and turning away from Matthew.

Alfred can be resilient when he wants to be, now being one of those moments. He chooses that ignoring Matthew for the rest of the class is the wisest course of action, leaving the other blond silently fuming in his seat as his mind worked in over drive, thinking up all the worst case scenarios.

He wants to believe Alfred, he really does, but something's pulling at his gut. He has a feeling that he may or may not have to soon face a rather embarrassing situation thanks to his friend, one that probably involves Gilbert. Sometimes, Alfred gets overenthusiastic when helping people, and goes just slightly overboard in his antics.

Matthew _really_ hopes this is not the case, and that he's just over thinking and dwelling on it too much. So he pokes Alfred and offers an apology, which Alfred gladly accepts, and starts to ramble again on about various seduction techniques he had read in a magazine that someone has lent him.

Most of these are sexual in nature, effectively embarrassing Matthew and causing Braginski to use his selective hearing to tune the two teenagers out of his head.

By the end of the period and the school day, Matthew has almost forgotten about Alfred's little slip up during class. Until of course, Alfred informs him that he won't be walking home with him today due to the fact that he has to meet up with someone rather important. Matthew tries to tease and ask if Alfred has actually finally managed to get a date, but Alfred keeps a pokerface and doesn't tell him who he's meeting.

They depart at their lockers, and Matthew swears Alfred has gained a shifty look in his eyes. But that may just be the trick of the light.

* * *

As Matthew exits the building , he sees Sadiq slide into the driver's seat of a small blue car. Gilbert shortly follows, hopping into the passenger seat, and Matthew makes note to talk and get to know Sadiq because underneath that tough facade there is a person just waiting to become friends with Matthew and maybe give him a ride home.

Thirty seconds later, he sees Alfred sprinting towards the same car, waving his hands frantically. He is about to call out to his friend, when he sees Alfred come to a skidding stop right beside the door to the backseat, open the door, then get in.

Alfred got in the car.

Alfred got in the car with _Gilbert_.

That's probably who that person Alfred was talking about meeting after school.

Alfred F. Jones, who knows about Matthew's crush on Gilbert Beilschmidt.

Alfred F. Jones, who is incapable of keeping his mouth shut.

Every doubt that Matthew has had that something is up and Alfred wasn't telling the truth in class is completely erased.

* * *

OMG I'M SORRY THIS IS SO SHORT ._.

Really, I had to get this chapter out otherwise I wouldn't update in like...a loong time hahaha. Oh and I had a lot of homework so yeah. Not like I care about homework, but there's been a lot lately so that's why stuff's taking long.

Also, I wanted to introduce wannabegangster!Turkey. He may or may not be playing a bigger role in this than originally intended. Which is not saying much since this story isn't going past 15 chapters. I realised I spelled his name wrong, but I'm sticking it with through the fic cus I'm stubborn.

Does Matthew's crush seem slightly creepy? Because this is like how 99.9% of the crushes I know between people go. When I'm writing the math class scenes, I think that "Would they really be able to get away with doing that to a teacher?"

then i realized i have so why can't they?

Reviews are really appreciated!


	8. Chapter 8

**Relationship Status: It's Complicated**

Chapter Eight

* * *

Alfred replies with cryptic messages through the rest of the day, and the only excuse Matthew gets from him is that he needed to work on something with Sadiq for his psychology class, something which Matthew thinks is utter bullshit just because it's Alfred.

But there's nothing left that he can do about it, so instead, he continues ranting to his fat white cat as he lies lazily on the bed, occasionally peering at Matthew with beady little eyes.

"Do you think he told Gilbert?" Matthew asks Kumasomething and the cat bobs his head up and down. "That bastard. I'm going to rip him a new one."

Of course would he be ranting to anyone else Matthew would use kinder words such as _Wait till I get my hands on him_, but he knows that his cat doesn't give a shit either ways.

* * *

Meanwhile, sitting in Sadiq's car in the parking lot of the local MacDonald's while blasting gangster rap, Gilbert, Alfred, and Sadiq are pigging out on a monumental amount of food.

"I can't believe the kid likes you." Sadiq says as he bites into a chicken wrap while looking into the rearview mirror to fix his fitted cap.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Asks Gilbert, who is about to throw a fry at the pristine white sunglasses Sadiq is wearing but then decides that it is a better idea to eat it. "I'm fucking amazing. How can he _not_ like me?"

Sadiq reaches over and pulls down the passenger mirror/sunshield so that Gilbert can see his face.

"Proof." He says, as Gilbert inspects his salty lips and the ketchup crusting near the corners of his mouth and a dab on the tip of his nose.

"I only see beauty." He sniffs. "And I can't help if I eat a little messy when I'm really hungry."

"Who gives a shit?" Alfred quips from the backseat. "Matthew's always got questionable tastes anyways, aside from me."

Sadiq chuckles, and Gilbert mutters something about the world constantly being against his awesome self.

"We need to get Matt to ask you out so I get my fifty bucks." Alfred plunders on. "So we need a plan."

"_Or_ I could just ask him out." Gilbert shrugs. "As I said, like normal people do. Can't you call off the bet?"

"That's not exciting though." Alfred whines. "That's for lame people with boring lives, and I don't have fifty bucks. We need to_ pry_ it out from him."

Alfred squishes his hamburger to add sound effects, the squelching sound making both Sadiq and Gilbert grimace.

"You still haven't thought of a way to get him to do it though." Gilbert points out. "If you take too long, he's going to end up not liking me anymore."

"He's liked you for eight frickin' months, I think he can last a little longer."

"Yeah, but what if someone else catches my interest? Then how are you gonna explain that to him?"

A silence falls over the trio, as something that Alfred hasn't thought about before makes itself known.

"Well damn."

The silence draws out over them and Sadiq is the first one to break it. Licking the sauce from his wrap off of his fingers and adjusting the glasses on his face, he speaks.

"I'll just subtly hint to him that he should ask Gilbert out." Sadiq does not ask, nor does he suggest; he simply states. "And then the problem is solved. The end."

"What the hell are you going to do? Go up to him and be like, 'Hey, Alfred told me you liked Gilbert so why don't you just go ask him out' ? Because if I get skinned because of that I'm coming after you while you sleep."

"Trust." Sadiq snorts. "I'm not useless like you guys."

"Asshole." Gilbert and Alfred say in unison, and Sadiq is about to make a witty comeback when he sees someone. Specifically, the manager of the MacDonald's coming out of the building after recieving numerous complaints about the teenagers and their loud music in the parking lot.

"Buckle up, ladies." Sadiq says, and before the manager can reach them and the others can put on their seatbelts he puts the car into reverse. He hits the accelerator and makes a sharp turn, then deciding that breaking the speed limit isn't that bad an idea, he puts the car into drive and pulls out of the parking lot in impressive time.

The topic of Matthew is lost as the three bicker over the music they should blast while they zoom down the road.

* * *

The next day rolls by, and Matthew wakes up midway through what would be second period. His brain does not fully comprehend this even as he reads all the threatening and curse-filled text messages Alfred has sent him and Matthew thinks that this will be the perfect day for a pancake breakfast.

He trudges downstairs and greets his mother, who's got a day off, a good morning. She gives him a curious look and asks why he isn't in school. Matthew yawns and is about to say he just woke up, and then his gaze lands on the oven clock.

The thought of a pancake breakfast is punted out of his mind as he rushes and tries to gather decent looking clothes, his books, his bag, and hopefully a matching set of shoes. He trips over his cat, resulting in getting his forehead scraped, and his mother doesn't let him out of the house till she fixes the wound.

"Mom!" He protests, trying to swat away her hands as she applies a band-aid."Wearing a band-aid on my forehead is so lame! I'm _sixteen_!"

"It's your own fault." She scolds, succeeding in putting on the adhesive. "You need to be more careful with yourself."

"I was- I _am_ in a rush!"

"Also your fault, eh?" She pats the band-aid, and gives him a kiss on the forehead as he tries to wriggle out of her grasp. For being a petite, small boned woman she has an iron grip that could rival a wrestler's. "This is why you need better time management."

He finally manages to pry himself from her grip, and by the time he reaches school, it is fifteen minutes into the lunch period. He texts Alfred, and Alfred doesn't reply, nor is he anywhere to be found, so Matthew gives up and decides to eat lunch in the cafeteria and review the math homework that he has forgotten to do.

By the time the bell for third period rings, Matthew is pissed off at both Alfred and the (stupid, soul-sucking, spirit-crushing) math homework (that he really should have started on before) and has a sour look on his face as he drops his bag onto his desk with great vehemence.

Of course, no one really notices, and Matthew slumps into his seat and gripes to himself. The class starts, and five minutes into it, Sadiq saunters in. Vargas tells him to get down and give him twenty (after he pulls up his baggy pants) and Sadiq just walks on by and slinks into his seat. Vargas scowls, but continues on with his lesson, and Matthew has a vague feeling that the two share the same relationship as he, Alfred, and Braginski do.

"'S'up?" Sadiq asks as Vargas continues talking, and Matthew is slightly taken by the seemingly too-casual tone. Or maybe he's just paranoid because of yesterday.

"Er...nothing much."

"Cool." Sadiq tosses a thin notebook onto his desk and makes no move to open it and take notes. Because beating around the bush are for losers and wimps, Sadiq gets straight to the point. "I heard you're tryna chop someone."

Matthew frowns for a second, completely unfamiliar with the slightly violent sounding lingo. "...Chop?"

"Yenno, tryna flirt and get with someone."

Matthew's hand freezes in the middle of his note and his eyes widen considerably.

"W-what- Who told you that?" He whispers, looking around to make sure no one is listening.

Sadiq considers whether or not to tell Matthew, and remembers the ketchup stain he found in his backseat after Alfred had left.

"Your boy Alfred. Don't worry," He adds as Matthew meeps. "He didn't tell Gilbert."

A white lie, but Sadiq doesn't want to wish death upon Alfred yet.

Matthew lets out a steady stream of curses underneath his breath as Sadiq watches, thoroughly amused. Why Alfred told _Sadiq_ of all people-

"Yenno, I can help ya. We carpool and shit. Have been since our parents had to drive us in elementary."

Oh well, there's the reason, but Matthew is still going to kill Alfred. Matthew is really at a loss for words, and Vargas' voice has become a drone in the back of his head.

If Alfred has told Sadiq, what if he has told someone else? Like Arthur? Or Francis? Oh god, if he's told Francis, Matthew is definitely screwed.

_Fuck my life fuck my life fuck my life fuck my-_

"Hellooooo." Sadiq waves a slightly hairy hand in Matthew's face. "Ya hear me, kid?"

"L-loud and clear."

"Yeah, so as I was saying, you have a pretty good chance with the guy."

"...Really?"

"Yeah. You're not that bad looking..." Sadiq thinks for a bit, then adds a "No homo."

"Erm... none taken?"

"He'll go for someone like you." The boy says, scratching stubble that he proudly grows. "Alfred's told me you haven't asked him out though."

Matthew doesn't reply because there's one line repeating in his head.

_He'll go for someone like you._

_He'll go for someone like you._

**_He'll go for someone like you._**

Much like that one time he thought his favourite hockey team was going to make the playoffs because of a good game, Matthew is slowly feeling elated.

_Very _elated.

"H-he'll go for someone like me?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure. Well, I can ask him if ya want."

"No!" Matthew exclaims loudly, earning a reprimand from Vargas and a curious look from the class. After they have looked away, Matthew continues in a more subdued tone. "I mean...er... it's okay."

Sadiq raises his eyebrows, and Matthew scrambles for an explanation.

"Yeah, um... I think I can handle it."

"I heard you've liked him for eight months."

Matthew wants to kill Alfred, but resists the urge for now.

"Err, give or take."

"Maybe it's time for you to make a move. Just sayin'. I mean, if I were after some chick for eight months I'd have done something."

With that, Matthew decides to not speak to Sadiq for the rest of the class. Which serves to amuse the other very much.

* * *

"I am going to kill you." Matthew informs Alfred as they walk to Math together. Alfred fakes bewilderment.

"And why, may I ask?"

"You're going around telling people I like...that I like someone!"

"Aww, come on, it was just Fra- Sadiq! Just Sadiq!" Alfred sees Matthew's murderous glare, and decides that his friend is in for a noogie. So he slings an arm around Matthew and draws him close, digging his knuckles into his friend's head.

"You need to lighten up~" He says cheerily, and Matthew tries to smack him in the face and fails. More out of concern for his own safety rather than pure harassment for Matthew, Alfred keeps Matthew in a head lock till they get to class

"Jones, please let go of your friend." Braginski says, as they drop into their seats.

"Sometimes I'm glad I sit with you, Braginski." Alfred says, as Matthew continues grumbling. "Otherwise Matt 'ere woulda killed me."

"Pleasure." Braginski replies crisply, and starts to take attendance.

"You told Sadiq." Matthew hisses. "Who else have you told?"

"No one." Alfred lies through his teeth. He feels slightly bad for it, but he figures it'll be better in the long run. If Matthew finds out that Gilbert knows, he will most likely retract into a shell or a cardboard box and stay there till graduation. "Just told Sadiq so he could give me hints on how you can woo Gilbert and shit."

Matthew glares at him, and Alfred sticks his tongue out at him. "Well, would you have rather had me ask Francis? Or maybe even _Gilbert_?"

Matthew thwacks him on the nose with a ruler from his geometry kit, and Braginski catches them in the middle of his lecture.

"Williams, Jones." He says. "I am teaching a lesson. Unless you would like to teach the class yourselves, I suggest you remain quiet."

The two wait till Braginski redirects his attention to the rest of the class before bickering again.

"I am not going to tell you about anything, ever." Matthew frowns. "You're dead to me, Jones."

"I did you a favour." Alfred sniffs. "I've gotten the best person to give you advice."

"All he told me was to just go up straight and ask Gilbert out!"

"Which is perfectly good advice!"

"I don't have fifty bucks!" Matthew exclaims rather loudly; but due to his partial-invisibility, no one notices. "Or the courage!"

"D'awww." Alfred coos. "My heart bleeds for you. Ask him out."

"No. And don't think I'm not going to take revenge on you."

"Well when you two are making out, you'll be thanking me. Oh wait, that can only happen when _you ask him out-_"

"How about you shut up, or I'll-"

"Bring it on, weakling-"

"Maybe I will, assho-"

"Jones. Williams." A voice interrupts their little tirade and they look up to see the teacher glowering at them. Even his fake smile isn't present, as he says, "Detention. After class."

"As if." Alfred mutters underneath his breath, and Braginski catches them.

"I'm serious, gentlemen."

The whole class oooh's and while Alfred and Matthew keep up a non-chalant facade. Underneath...

Yeah, underneath they really don't care either.

* * *

Turns out Braginski has been serious about giving the two boys a detention. At the end of the class, the two stand up and start to pack, but Braginski stops them.

"Detention." He reminds. "You're in for an hour."

If someone knows the two boys, especially Alfred, they will expect the two to protest vehemently and put their foot down. Instead, Alfred drops his jaw in shock and Matthew's eyes start to glisten.

"You...you actually were actually serious about giving us a detention!" Alfred exclaims loudly, earning curious looks from the remaining students filing out the door. "I think this should be commemorated."

Braginski casts him a sour look as Alfred drops back into his seat, Matthew following suit. Alfred folds his hands on the table in front of him, as Matthew looks on in amusement. All growing animosity between the two is always forgotten when they get to team up against Braginski.

"I think this is a great leap forward in our relationship." Alfred states, gesturing to the three of them. "You've finally asserted yourself, and we've improved on our communication skills."

"Jones," Braginski sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Please do not speak. This is the rule for detention."

"Says who?"

"Says I. And I happen to be the one enforcing this detention."

Matthew looks to Alfred to see what he will say next, but Alfred merely shrugs. "'Bout time you grew a backbone, Braginski."

Alfred pulls his phone out of his pocket, and resting his elbows on the table, starts texting away.

"Please put that away" The math teacher says quietly, trying to concentrate on marking the tests from his ninth grade class. Alfred ignores him and keeps texting, but Braginski doesn't say anything since the kid has actually shut up for a change. Matthew keeps trying to make conversation, but Alfred seems determined to be quiet and text who ever is on the other line. Matthew gets fed up and gives up, and sticks his earphones in.

For countless eye-glazing minutes, nothing happens. At quarter after three, Matthew is about to fall asleep- hell, he's already dozing- when his phone vibrates rather loudly. Glad for some reprieve from boredom, he checks his message.

_yo, yu busy?_

Matthew blinks, and stares at the screen and the I.D. Then something clicks in his mind, and tells him that replying to Gilbert is a good idea.

_detention w. braginski_

His finger hovers over the send button, but then he decides to add a

_:(_

for added flair. Ten agonizing seconds later, he gets a reply.

_gaay. when r u off? we should work on the history thing_

"How long are we in here for, Mr. Braginski?" Matthew asks, but Braginski doesn't seem to hear. Alfred however casts Matthew a curious look.

_idk probably for like 20 more minutes or something_

_k i'm by the school so i'll wait for you then. text me when you're out. see ya_

Before Matthew can hyperventilate that _Holy crap, he's waiting for me _Alfred seizes the phone

"Oh my fucking god." Alfred says in a very dramatic whisper, staring at the screen. "Yes. Just _yes_."

"What did I say about speaking, Alfred?" Braginski begins to reprimand.

"Don't remember," Alfred says flippantly. "But look at this."

Alfred pries the phone from Matthew's hand and reached across his desk, trying to shove it in Braginski's face. Braginski narrows his eyes, and pushes Alfred's hand downwards, while Matthew attempts to grab it, prevented by Alfred using his free hand to block Matthew's face.

"Al-argh! Alfred!" Comes Matthew's muffled voice, and Braginski tells Alfred to act his age. Alfred ignores them both in favour of showing Braginski the text message because hey, everyone should join in on the fun.

"Look! The guy who he's been obsessed with since forever has texted him!" Alfred exclaims cheerfully, inducing more protesting squeaks from Matthew and raised eyebrows from Braginski. "The guy's like, gonna wait for him after detention and everything too!"

"I am happy for him." Braginski says icily. "Now let him go and give his phone back before I give you another detention."

"Nah, he can get it himself. Right, Matt?"

"I hate you, eh?"

"Matthew." Braginski sighs, voice tired. "You may leave now. Your time is finished."

Alfred is about to start packing up too, but Braginski raises a hand to stop him

"You. You need to serve some extra time."

"What! That is so not fair!" Alfred protests, and Matthew lets him know that this is what he deserves for telling Sadiq. And probably a few other people that he's not letting on about.

* * *

A couple of minutes later, Matthew has made it to his locker and has texted Gilbert, asking where he is.

Matthew gets a text back saying Gilbert is at the smoker's pit, so he throws on his sweater and slings his backpack over his shoulder. He walks downstairs and heads outside to the park a couple of meters off school property. There, by a few trees, part of the teenage population congregates to smoke , hence the area earning the grand title of being the smoker's pit.

He sees Gilbert standing there, talking to Arthur and an a brunet that looks like he is on the verge of killing someone. Matthew also recognizes Sadiq standing there with a kid that Matthew remembers having come from a city with a complicated name in Iceland. Out of the group, only Gilbert and the Icelandic kid aren't smoking, and the angry brunet looks like he wants to put his cigarette out on Gilbert's forehead.

He calls out Gilbert's name, but the other doesn't seem to hear, so he waits till he's closer to the group.

"Hey, um...Gilbert?" Matthew taps Gilbert on the shoulder, and Gilbert jumps a little before spinning around.

"Oh damn, you surprised me Matt." Gilbert says, and the angry brunet snorts while Arthur and Sadiq raise a hand in greeting.

"Matt, this is Lovino Vargas." Gilbert introduces Matthew to the brunet, who grunts in response. Matthew vaguely remembers him as a senior from the school, and though the boy is shorter than him, Matthew can't help but feel intimidation radiate off of him. "And this is Adam. I can't pronounce his last name."

The pale kid with silver hair just stares at Matthew, and Matthew tries to give a polite smile in return. The group falls back into conversation, Lovino and Gilbert having a heated discussion on soccer, which Matthew zones out of, while Sadiq and...Adam? discuss something. Or more like Sadiq talks in an extravagant manner, and Adam listens with a wary eye on the hand with the cigarette flailing around.

Arthur sees Matthew standing alone and awkward, and thankfully takes pity on his friend, transporting from his spot beside Sadiq to standing beside Matthew.

"Want one?" He asks, and Matthew shakes his head. "If I go home smelling like smoke again, mom's going to kill me. And the smell always seems to stick."

"Ah, I see. Where's Alfred?"

"Detention with Braginski. I know," Matthew adds, seeing Arthur's expression. "We were surprised he went through this time too."

"Are you kidding? Braginski?" Gilbert interrupts the conversation out of nowhere. "He used to give me detention all the fucking time. Such a piss off."

"That's because you make it so easy to get caught." Arthur snickers, earning the finger from Gilbert. He takes a drag and blows it in the platinum-haired boy's face. "So bloody easy."

"Fuck off, I don't. It's not my fault that Braginski has eyes _everywhere_."

"With the grace you conduct yourself with, I don't think he'd need any eyes to catch you." This earns Arthur a half-hearted punch to the stomach, while Gilbert scowls. "Dick."

"_Dick._" Arthur mimicks, and Matthew clears his throat.

"I don't have that long." He says, effectively derailing the conversation. "I have a doctor's appointment at five, so I have to leave by four thirty."

"Damn." Gilbert looks down at his watch. "That gives us what, an hour?"

"Yeah, I was thinking that maybe we could go to the library and get started on the initial research and-"

"Nah," Gilbert waves him off. "Not enough time. We'll do it tomorrow or something."

"You mean you're going to leave it to the last moment." Lovino says, ever-present frown in place.

"Can we stop ganging up on me? I'm too awesome."

"No." Comes a resounding chorus, and Matthew can't help but laugh a bit.

"Find it funny, kid?" Gilbert raises an eyebrow.

"Uh...N-no..." Matthew's smile turns into a small grimace as he tries to cover it up. "So, um, I guess I'll see you around then?"

"I'll walk you home- I'll walk home with you." Gilbert rectifies himself almost immediately, and Matthew doesn't catch Arthur's smirk or Sadiq's raised eyebrows. "Gotta drop something off at someone's house and it's on the way."

"Oh...okay. Sure."

On the outside, Matthew is calm, collected, and cool (or so he likes to think.)

On the inside, he's completely flipping shit because even though he hasn't caught the change in expression with the other boys, he has caught the wording and while it may not seem like anything special, to him it totally is.

* * *

Inside the building, Braginski is regretting giving Alfred an extended detention and sending Matthew away early.

"Alfred, please remove yourself from the window." He requests, and is ignored. Alfred has his face pressed to the glass of the window, which offers a decent aerial view of the smoker's pit.

"No, I need to keep an eye on Matt." Alfred replies. "Oh come on Matt...Hell yes, they're walking away together!"

The menacing aura around Braginski is as a strong as ever, as he repeats himself. "Sit down, Alfred. I'm sure he'll be okay."

"Braginski, I understand you have no friends and can't relate to these kind of situations, but please." Alfred casts Braginski a shit-eating grin before turning back to the window. "Please don't interfere in me keeping an eye on my friend."

"I'm sure Matthew wouldn't appreciate you spying on him."

"He already knows I do."

"Sit down."

"No."

"I'll call home."

"So?"

"Last warning."

"Shaking in my boots."

"I'm calling home."

And much to Alfred's surprise, Braginski stands up, showing that he is 100% serious this time. Alfred narrows his eyes.

"You wouldn't."

"I am."

Braginski walks over to the phone by the door of the classroom, and Alfred tries to protest the entire way through. This time, his teacher's smile is a bit more sincere, and a bit more cruel as he starts to dial the number of the Jones household.

* * *

"So..." Matthew searches for a conversation topic, not wanting to sound awkward. "Vargas, eh? Is he related to our history teacher?"

"Yep, that's his grandfather."

Matthew nearly stops in the middle of the sidewalk. "You're kidding me."

"I know." Gilbert says, digging in his pocket. "Gum?"

"Yeah, sure." Matthew extends his palm for the blue strip, then pops it in his mouth while definitely not thinking about skipping dinner so he can savour the gum. "He looks to young to be a grandfather though, wouldn't have guessed."

For some reason, Matthew's finding it rather easy to talk to Gilbert. As opposed to other crushes he has had in the past (not counting Francis) this one is actually talking back to him (and knows who he is in the first place) so maybe that's playing a part in boosting Matthew's confidence.

"Well..." Gilbert scans the area quickly before continuing. "My brother's friends with Lovino's younger brother, Feli. Who's total shit at keeping secrets, so he said his mother got pregnant with Lovino when she was seventeen. Vargas totally flipped shit."

"I can imagine."

"Yeah, and then a year later on the same day, she pops out Feli. Except she was eighteen then, and an adult. But the dad left after Feli and never came back...though I heard Vargas tracked the guy down and beat the living shit out of him."

"Damn." Matthew mutters, wondering what would have happened if his mother's father had done the same.

"Sorry?"

Oh, he seems to have voiced that out loud. Oops.

"Um...n-nothing..." _Shit, that stupid stutter better not be coming back. _"J-just wondering what would have happened if my mom's dad did the same 'cause...yeah..."

He finishes off lamely, and looks to the ground. He's just shared a rather intimate piece of information with Gilbert without thinking through it, and it feels strange and slightly awkward.

"How old was she?"

The question is blunt, and Matthew can't help but answer. "Er...sixteen."

There is silence again and Matthew looks at Gilbert to see that he seems to be deep in thought.

"...So she'd be around thirty two, thirty three right now, yeah?"

"Um, yeah, I guess."

A smirk starts to unravel across Gilbert's face, and Matthew thinks its vaguely familiar to the same one Alfred wore the first time he met his mother after puberty.

"Maybe I should come over and pay my respects, eh?" Gilbert laughs that weird "kesesese~" laugh of his as Matthew sputters and punches him on the shoulder.

"That's my mother we're talking about!" He says indignantly, as Gilbert rubs his shoulder, still grinning madly.

"You get that often?" He asks, getting Matthew to give him a slightly questioning look. "I mean, the way you hit seems like you've had practice."

Then it dawns on him.

1) He's hit his crush.

2) Who's been planning to hit on his mother.

3) Who Gilbert has never met. Therefore already giving her more game with the teen than Matthew. _Damn._

"I'm sorry." Matthew mumbles, shoving his hands in his jeans in his pocket. "Kinda protective. And I'm used to hitting Al, so yeah."

"Don't worry, kid." Gilbert says, slinging an arm around Matthew out of his habit of getting touchy-feely with anyone who he's gracing with his presence. "I would be too, if I had a hot mom."

Matthew does have a coherent response in there somewhere, and it is supposed to come out. The only thing holding him back is that Gilbert has slung his arm around him and while he knows that the guy does it to just about everyone, he is still hyperventilating on the inside. He chooses not speak, lest the words come out as an airy gasp or something equally embarassing.

Gilbert continues rambling about something or another, the topic shifting from hot moms to over-protective dads to other vaguely obscene things at an alarming pace, and Matthew manages to keep up for the most part. He manages to throw in a witty remark twice, and one of them even gets him a ruffle of the hair.

By the time they've reached Matthew's house, Matthew has already mentally been through ten dates and a couple of nights with Gilbert and is dancing with joy on the inside. On the outside, he blushes furiously when Gilbert asks if he can drop in and meet his mother and much to Matthew's horror, in his rush during the morning he has forgotten his keys.

He rings the doorbell and his mother answers the door. Well, it's better than Rupert answering the door.

"Matthew?" She asks, raising her eyebrows.

"That would be me, mom." Matthew mumbles. "I forgot my keys in the morning."

"This is why you need to be more organized." She tuts, then looks at the teen standing behind him on the porch. "You've brought a friend over?"

"No I-"

"Yeah, Matthew was wondering if I could just stay over till he has to leave for his appointment. We just need to figure out stuff for the history project we're working on."

"Oh..." She looks at her son, who's slowly turning red and fiddling with his thumbs, then at the boy who is giving her a charming smile that can level Alfred's. "Well, come right in then."

"Mom!"

"Thanks, Miss Williams! Come on Matt, it's not good to stand out for too long."

* * *

"He spent half an hour flirting with my mom." Matthew laments to Alfred on the phone later on that night.

_"She's pretty hot though."_ Alfred points out. _"No one would know, looking at you though."_

"I am going to reach through this phone and bitch slap you, Jones."

_"Okay fine, you're hot too I guess. But she's like a sexy version of you with really nice tits."_

"I'm not lying." Matthew then sighs and rubs his temples. "Why am I so bad at this? Francis was so easy to get."

_"Well yeah, it's Francis. You're aiming for someone with an inch more of depth than him."_

"But I don't know what to do," Matthew moans. "I mean, we're talking now and stuff and he doesn't ignore me but it seems kinda limited."

_"I don't know man. Maybe if you asked him out or something, you'd find something to talk about."_

"Piss off." Matthew grumbles. "I need to impress the guy."

_"Maybe you can if you go on a date with him."_

"And how am I going to manage that?"

_"By asking him out?"_

"You suck." Matthew spits. "I bet I could get better help from _Braginski._"

_"Your mom." _Alfred retorts, for lack of a better come back and Matthew rolls his eyes.

"I guess I'll have to sleep on it then. Since you're no help."

_"You wound me. Do not blame me for your own incompetence."_

"Stop using words you don't know, Jones."

_"Asshole."_

"Goodnight to you too, Al."

With that, they hand up, and Matthew flops his head back onto his pillow. Well, at least he's getting slightly closer to Gilbert. But he self-admittedly does not have that much game, and he knows that he needs to move fast because he knows Gilbert won't wait for him or anything.

* * *

Yeah so I have a soft spot for Russia and America together like America has a soft spot for burgers and England has a soft spot for tea but I'm too lazy to write them a story of their own so I'll just have Alfred ragging on Braginski instead.

and it's in my headcannon that one or both of the italies smoke. idk why.

and "No homo" is the most irritating phrase when said seriously. Like dude you don't go "lol nice shirt UM NO HOMO"

Reviews are really appreciated!


	9. Chapter 9

**Relationship Status: It's Complicated**

Chapter Nine

* * *

In terms of socially awkward situations he generally does not like to be found in, Matthew considers grocery shopping with his mother one of them. Alfred always says that it doesn't matter because most people won't recognize Matthew anyways but ever since Lars saw him waiting in the feminine hygiene section of the pharmacy within the store, Matthew begs to differ. The only pro to this is that Rupert, who has been doing a good job of slowly edging into Matthew's life as an authoratative figure even though he is still relatively new, is not with them today. Or for the rest of the weekend.

So far, he hasn't seen anyone he knows, which is good. It's Friday night so he doesn't know how many people from his school would be out grocery shopping but he hopes it's not too many. He trails behind his mom with the shopping cart, earphones in and trying to look as disinterested as possible, even though he has just spent five minutes trying to convince her to buy his favourite brand of bacon.

As they turn into the aisle where all the marmalade and jam and syrup is store, Matthew does a double take and curses his bad luck. Of _course_, it'll be Gilbert Beilschmidt that he runs into. He hasn't seen the guy much in the past two days, since one day he decided to skip class (according to Alfred) and the other day he had a field trip. But there he is, ten feet away, staring at the rows of jam with a slightly glazed look in his eye. Matthew hopes that he has zoned out and that he can get out of here as quicky as he can. If his mother sees Gilbert, she'll probably call him over in that enthusiastic manner she normally greets all of Matthew's friends in.

"Honey, pay attention." His mother snaps her fingers in his face, and points to the rows of bottles that Matthew realizes they have just stopped in front of. They're all maple syrup of different kinds. "Or you'll complain when I don't get the right kind."

"Um..." He looks at all the glass. Maybe if he doesn't see Gilbert, Gilbert won't see him and his mom. "Anything is okay..."

"That's what you said last time." She sighs, tucking a long strand of hair behind her ear. "And then you wouldn't eat breakfast for a month because you didn't like it."

"_Mom_..." Matthew blushes slightly at the memory. "That was when I was in third grade."

"And?"

He'd like to tell her not to please not bring that up, but as he opens his mouth, a sharp low voice calls out "Gilbert!" and a "Over here!" in return. He can't help but look up and see that Gilbert has just been joined by a tall and muscular looking woman with blond hair as long as his mother's. He can't see her face but he assumes that's Gilbert's mother.

Or not, because she turns and Matthew can see a slightly prominent chin and a sharp nose. And of course, the voice that is berating Gilbert for standing there and doing nothing is rather low and masculine.

"Oh, is that your friend?" Matthew's mom interrupts his "observing", and he quickly snaps back.

"Er, that's, um-"

"Ah, I remember him!" She says cheerily. "He was that really nice boy who came over just the other day, right? What was his name?

"Gilbert." Matthew mutters, and focuses his attention back on the maple syrup. "Anyways, I think this one would be the-"

"Why don't you say hi to him?" She chirps, ignoring Matthew completely. "Look, he's even looking over here!"

Sure enough, Gilbert isn't paying attention to whatever the man is telling him, and is looking in the direction of Matthew and his mom. Matthew feebly raises a hand and Gilbert gives him a grin.

Wait.

That grin.

Matthew is probably reading a bit to deep into things, but that grin almost looks like it's a _knowing _grin. A knowing, shit-eating grin. After saying something quick ot the man who was lecturing him, Gilbert decides to saunter over to Matthew and his mother to say hello. Matthew stands rooted in his spot, not knowing whether or not to grab his mom by the arm and take off. But that would be rather childish of him to do, and would send off the wrong kind of message.

"Hey Matt!" Gilbert greets, then nods in the direction of Matthew's mother, charming smile on again. "How do you do, Miss Williams?"

"Very good." Matthew's mom says, because she's always enthusiastic about meeting Matthew's friends. Parenting classes when he was a toddler and she was on her way out of her teen years told her that showing your kid you cared about their friends showed you cared about them and she's always keen to get to know all of Matthew's friends. Matthew on the other hand, is not so keen, especially since his friends like to joke about getting _really _friendly with his mom afterwards. "Just getting a couple of things here and there. Matt, hon, have you made up your mind?"

"Yes, mom." He says quietly, dropping the bottle into the cart. "Can we-"

"You like maple syrup?" Gilbert asks, more to his mother than to him.

"Yep! Mattie loves this stuff!" She babbles, and Matthew cringes internally at the nickname that he asked her to stop using back in the seventh grade when he and Alfred were convinced they would start a punk band and the name Mattie would not fly. "Puts it on everything, especially those pancakes he loves to cook all the time."

"Pancakes, eh?" He gives a rather amused look in Matthew's direction, and Matthew presses his lips together and gives a thumbs up. "Maybe I should try them sometime."

Matthew's saving grace comes in the form of the man who had been lecturing Gilbert earlier on. He eerily resembled Ludwig, with the same large structure and icy blue eyes. He is reminded of an older version of Legolas, and he's sure Gilbert gets that often so he'll try and not mention it.

"Gilbert. I was talking to you." The man says quietly, and Gilbert just waves him off. "I was just saying hi to my friend!"

The man blinked, then looked towards Matthew and his mother. He seems to be debating whether or not to drag Gilbert away by the ear, or greet these people.

"Ulrich." He says, extending his hand. "Ulrich Beilschmidt. I'm Gilbert's grandfather."

Matthew wonders who he is extending his hand towards, but his mother answers that by shaking Mr. Beilschmidt's hand.

"Emma Williams." She smiles. "And this is my son, Matthew."

"_Mattie _and I are working on a history project together." Gilbert uses Matthew's nickname in a nearly sickly sweet tone, and Matthew would very much like to melt into the ground. "I was just wondering when he was free next so that we can work on it."

Matthew is about to say that he is busy all weekend, or that he'll have to check whether he's free or not, and then secretly confer with Alfred on his next plan of action.

"Oh, Mattie's home all weekend." His mother happily supplies for him. "Feel free to come over whenever, his friend's grounded so he has no one to hang out with."

"Mom..." Matthew says, his tone exasperated because she's making him look like he's got only one friend. He does, it's just Alfred he's usually with the most and it's Alfred that's always oer on the weekends. It's just that Alfred is grounded, after his mother received a phone call form Braginski detailing all of her son's wrongdoings. Matthew has had to listen to Alfred bitch about how wrong the world is for the past couple of days, and Braginski has been subject to many a death glare during math class, which he returns with an equally creepy smile.

"Tomorrow sound good?" Matthew blinks, and realizes that he is being spoken too. Seeing he has no option, he nods slowly. Gilbert slaps him on his back, while his grandfather quietly apologizes for his grandson being a nuisance while Matthew's mother brushes it off.

And the worst part is that he cannot lament about it to Alfred later on, nor get any advice, because Alfred's internet has been taken away for the weekend, something which has caused the other a lot of grief. He does try calling, but his mother says Alfred is in the shower and that he is not allowed to answer the phone later on.

Somewhere within that time, Matthew wonders if it is possible to hook Rupert and Alfred's mother up.

* * *

Sure enough, on Saturday morning at around eleven, Matthew is standing in his kitchen stirring pancake batter while there is another person sitting on his kitchen counter, eating an apple he has filched from the fruit basket sitting on top of the dining table. He's not quite sure why this is happening, but it is and he doesn't know whether to be overjoyed or to freak out or to do something equally embarassing.

"So, _Mattie_," Gilbert drawls. He has been using that nickname ever since he has gotten here, and seems to find great enjoyment in the slight pink that's made a permanent home on Matthew's cheeks. "You cook on a regular basis?"

Matthew does, actually, and he _loves_ to cook. Especially all the recipes that Francis had taught him when they were going out, and Matthew thought he was especially good at making deserts.

"Just pancakes." He says quietly, and shrugs. "And I like to barbeque too."

Gilbert hums, and takes another crunch out of his fruit. Matthew heats up the pan, and it is relatively silent in the house because his mother has stepped out to visit a friend. He wishes he was one of those people that could just pull a conversation topic out of their ass and amaze the present company, but he's more of a person to wait for the other person to do that.

He opens the cupboard out of having nothing better to do, and finds something to at least feet, get them to talk slightly. It's rather unnerving how even Gilbert hasn't gone off on a topic like he did last time they hung out.

"Do you want chocolate chips in your pancakes?" He asks, holding up a plastic tub of said topping. Gilbert contemplates, then flashes a thumbs up and Matthew pours a handful into the batter bowl. As he's putting them away, he grabs a few for himself and pops them in his mouth. Gilbert makes a small noise and Matthew looks at him over his shoulder. "You want some?"

Gilbert nods and Matthew holds out the tub allowing the other to take a couple before he puts it away. Gilbert comments on how they taste, and Matthew tells him what brand it is. Some genial comment is made about the brand, and they shoot the breeze like that for the amount of time it takes Matthew to cook a couple of big pancakes. Surprisingly, he's okay with this sort of conversation, even though from what he knows Gilbert isn't the type of person to be so sober when sober.

"That smells fucking amazing." Gilbert says, enthusiasm finally creeping into his voice as Matthew slides a pancake onto the plate. Gilbert himself has been quite because for some reason, he doesn't feel the need to show off. Usually he likes to be louder than whoever he's with and this time the kid he's hanging with is on the quiet side so he's just... _normal._ It is a rather odd feeling, and he supposes he will correct that as soon as he gets a bite of those pancakes.

"I hope they taste as good." Matthew replies with a small smile as he grabs some forks from the drawer. Gilbert gets down on his feet, slightly restless from doing nothing aside from eating. "Need help?"

"Um...the syrups in that cupboard by your head, so if you could grab that, it'd be nice."

The table is set, something that is weird for both of them because both are used to just taking their food and eating wherever they feel like. But Gilbert feels like this will be more like a date-like situation where Matthew will eventually see his awesomeness and bow down to it and ask him out (well he's probably already acknowledged Gilbert's awesomeness, it's just the rest that needs taking care of) and Alfred can get his fifty bucks and Matthew won't care because he'll be in Gilbert's presence.

Matthew's just doing this because he's nervous as hell and is becoming slightly jittery.

A glass of orange juice is also placed beside each plate and they both sit across from each other, Matthew staring at his plate and hoping he isn't turning red and Gilbert just staring at him as he drenches his pancakes in syrup.

Well, Gilbert has never really barged into someone's house for breakfast before (aside from Francis' or Antonio's or occasionally Arthur's if he feels daring, but that doesn't count because the favour is usually reciprocated) so he's not quite sure what he does now. Eat, maybe?

He keeps his eyes on the furiously blushing blond (man that kid has it _bad_, but at least he looks cute so it's worth a shot) and slowly cuts off a piece of the pancake. When he sees Matthew still won't make eye contact with him, he goes ahead and shoves into his mouth.

And suddenly, everything is forgotten but all is beautiful because these pancakes are what he eloquently likes to call an orgasm of the mouth variety. His brother cooks some pretty decent pancakes but these pancakes are magic and he might just have to kidnap this kid and make him cook pancakes for every meal every day for the rest of his life.

"Holy _shit _son," Gilbert groans, and Matthew looks up at him with curiosity. What happens next stuns and slightly amuses Matthew, because within what seems to be the span of five seconds, Gilbert vacuums up all his pancakes. He sits back in his chair and downs the orange juice in one go, wipes the corner of his mouth, and has the look of utmost satisfaction.

"...You want more?"

Fuck Alfred and his fifty bucks, if this kid could cook this good then Gilbert's going to hone in as fast as he can. Then again, Alfred _has_ promised to split profit... Well, at least he's going to flirt with Matthew to speed things up and soon enough he'll have an endless supply of these god-given pancakes.

* * *

Matthew Williams is mentally giving himself a bro-fist because hell _yes_ he has gotten somewhere without the help of Alfred F. Jones. Which isn't saying much, because the help he always gets is rather strange, but he is always seeking it none the less. It's _something _at least.

Alright, so maybe they're not licking batter off each other and/or getting down and dirty in the kitchen, but he's teaching Gilbert Beilschmidt how to cook pancakes and unlike Alfred (or that one time he was paid to baby sit Peter Kirkland even though he was only a couple years younger and ended up nearly strangling the boy in his sleep) Gilbert seems to be listening with rapt attention.

And surprisingly he seems to be rather good at this too, and Matthew is trying not to look at how he's rolled up the sleeves of his grey hoodie, giving a nice view of pale but well built arms. They're not as muscular as Alfred's, but they're not as thin and delicate as Francis' arms.

"Woah woah woah," He says, grabbing one of the aforementioned attractive arms and preventing it from adding too much butter. "It tastes funny otherwise."

Gilbert nods, and puts the butter down. He is about to let Matthew know that he can let go of his arm now, but for shits and giggles he decides to leave it be and let the blond figure out for himself. Matthew, who is too busy dipping his finger in the batter and tasting it to see if the batter's done properly, doesn't.

"How do you know if it's good?" Gilbert asks, genuinely interested in this. His friends and family always seem to think that he will suck (major balls) at cooking therefore not even bothering to teaching him. As pay back, he generally forces them to cook for him but it's always nice to learn.

Especially since he's learning how to cook these kinds of pancakes.

"Well, see the batter's got to be this certain type of texture and it can't be too sweet or you'll end up wanting to puke, especially if you throw in chocolate chips..."

Matthew continues to ramble on, his eyes trained on the bowl as he has finally realized he has Gilbert's arm in a vice-like grip but is too embarrassed to face the embarrassment of acknowledging that he has grabbed Gilbert.

Gilbert sticks a finger into the batter and swirls it about, bringing it up and licking it.

"Tastes bitchin'." He comments, then grins. "Good job, dude."

He raises the arm that Matthew has latched on to, and uses the hand to pat Matthew's head. Matthew immediately lets go, and goes pink again. "I'm s-sorry."

"You okay?" Gilbert's just messing with him right now as he pokes the cheek of the other teen. "You're redder than the time I found my brother's porn. Was it the mix? Is it poisonous? Did I poison you? Want me to apologize?"

Matthew swats the constantly poking finger away, deciding not to answer in case his reply comes in the form of an embarrassing stutter. He instead gives the batter the thumbs up, and it's poured into the pan. There's a sort of calm that has settled over him, probably due to the fact that he's teaching Gilbert how to cook his specialty and Gilbert is actually listening. He's slipping more into the Matthew, that while still slightly socially awkward, is rather amiable.

"Look at the fucker cook." Gilbert says a couple of minutes later, slowly flipping over the first pancake. "I can already tell it's going to be fucking amazing."

He pokes the center of it with a satisfied hum, and Matthew thinks that now is a good time to give a compliment and score some brownie (pancake?) points with his crush.

Who's standing in his kitchen with him, cooking and has insisted on making enough so Matthew can try some of his awesome cooking too.

Times are good.

"You seem to be good at this." He says, giving a small smile.

"Really? No one ever lets me cook." Gilbert shrugs. "They think I'll burn the building down or some shit."

"So far so good." At that, Gilbert emits some weird sound and Matthew can't tell whether he is hissing or chuckling. The first pancake is slid onto the plate, and more batter is poured in.

"Maybe I should keep one for your mom too." Gilbert idly suggests, and Matthew gives him a playful punch (_and oh my god it's a _playful_ punch I am so getting somewhere with Gilbert) _to shut him up. "Stop it."

"Why?" Gilbert wriggles his eyebrows "You jealous?"

_Yes_, Matthew is about reply but bites it back. He opts for the more mature decision of sticking his tongue out and making a _neeh _sound, causing Gilbert to smack his tongue with the still hot spatula he has just used to pry the second pancake off the pan and onto a plate. They pause for a second, Matthew's tongue out and the spatula pressed against it as dead silence settles in.

"Oh _shit._" Both their eyes widen and Gilbert quickly removes the spatula and Matthew cups his mouth, eyes starting to water up as the pain set in. "_Shit shit shit _bro, where the hell are your glasses?"

Matthew indicates frantically to a cupboard and Gilbert whips out a large beer mug and turns the kitchen tap on full force. Matthew frees his mouth and reaches for the cup but before he knows what's happening, it's jammed in his mouth and cold water is being forced down his mouth. He tries to swallow and sputters and pushes the glass away so he can turn around and keel over the sink and choke in peace. A hand's slapping his back repeatedly as he coughs and coughs and his face is going red and he gasps and then it's done.

Just like that. He stands over the sink, trying to catch his breath as someone is filling the glass up again.

"Here." Gilbert says, holding it out to Matthew. "I promise I won't just shove it in again."

Then, after a thoughtful moment, he adds, "That's what she said."

"I'm sure." Matthew offers a weak smile and takes the glass. He winces as the cool water slides over his burn, but it's soothing nonetheless. Gilbert, being the touchy-feely person that he is, grabs Matthew's chin as soon as he is done to pry open his mouth.

"Stick your tongue out." Matthew complies, and Gilbert hums. "Well, didn't get ya that bad."

"Thatsh great." Matthew replies, and Gilbert taps his chin.

"Yenno, back in Mesopotamia, they used to burn tongues to see if people were guilty or not.'Cept they'd do it with a red hot iron rod, not some prissy spatula."

"Well...I'm glad it was a prissy spatula?" Matthew curls his tongue upwards and criss-crosses his eyes to try and get a good look at his tongue. "I don't see much."

His friend Antonio makes this weird sound every time he sees something cute or adorable (the closest they've gotten to identifying it is a _buhyoo_) and Gilbert needs to bite his tongue lest he lets out that same stupid sound and degrade the image of the cool suave guy Matthew no doubt has in his mind.

But a stupid grin will do.

* * *

"I don't know why we haven't hung out much before." Gilbert informs sincerely, as he forks in a piece of pancake. He's eating in a more civilized manner now, but still with enthusiasm. "This needed to have happened sooner. I woulda gotten more of these."

Matthew couldn't agree more, though he does want out that they did meet each other occasionally before when he was with Francis. But Francis is a phase he would rather not revisit, purely for the fact that it was unknown incest, something Matthew's not too into.

He's also extremely happy that he's managing to sustain a conversation with Gilbert without it becoming extremely uncomfortable. They've strangely found a common ground, that common ground being food since Matthew is an enthusiastic cooker and Gilbert is an enthusiastic eater.

"You picked up fast." Matthew smiles as he takes a bite. "These came out rather nice."

"Good. I think I'll pack one up and give it to Ludwig or my old man. Prove to them I'm not incompetent."

Matthew laughs at that, and Gilbert finds that this guy's pretty decent after all. The whole normality of it all still throws Gilbert off, because he's used to people who are very much out there and slightly strange, but according to Alfred, Matthew has been crushing on him for eight months without doing anything (up until recently, he supposes) so that's enough to slightly ground Matthew.

It's not like he hadn't talked to him before, but it usually was when others were present and usually was a comment or two in passing. When he and Francis were dating (something that Gilbert thinks he'll probably not let either live down), Gilbert used to tag along on a group date with whichever person he had managed to hook for a day. Antonio would be there too, so he'd talk more to him than to Francis and/or Matthew.

Sure, food sounds like an extremely stupid topic to talk about and right now Gilbert gets the vague feeling they sound like a bunch of made-for-television housewives, but he's alright with it. Others underestimate his ability to talk about normal, or even mundane topics, much like they underestimate his ability to say anything smart.

Alright, so maybe the topic's on adding dubious ingredients to various baked goods, specifically brownies, and Gilbert's giving more than his fair share of stories, but it counts.

In the middle of a particularly funny story about how he and Antonio had painted their entire bodies and went streaking across a main road, Matthew's phone starts vibrating on top of the table. Called ID says it's Alfred, and since Matthew is under the impression that Alfred is grounded and this is a rare opportunity, he quickly picks the phone up.

"Al?"

_"Yo Matt, what's up?" _Alfred strangely sounds more subdued, probably because he has had nothing to do all day.

"Not much, just sitting here and eating."

_"Yeah?"_

"Yeah...um, with Gilbert."

Matthew cringes, as Alfred lets out a low whistle. He sneaks a quick look at Gilbert, who is checking something on his own phone and hasn't seem to have heard.

"Al, stop it." He hisses, and Alfred lets out short laughter.

_"No can do, Matt. Asked him out yet?"_

"No!"

_"'kay, well do it."_

"...Now?" Matthew looks at Gilbert again, who's started to text something with one thumb. He's about to protest, say that he needs to work up courage but in a moment rather rare for him, he's actually thinking _Well, why the hell not?_

_"C'mon Matt, mom's going all militarian or shit on my ass.I need some amusement."_

"W-wh- Amusement?"

_"Yeah. Well actually, my initial plan was to call and annoy you but given the dude you're chillin' with now, I think you've actually done something good for a change. Therefore, it's now my job to encourage you."_

Well, why the hell not?

"Hey, um...Gilbert." Matthew says, loud enough to get his attention. He can literally _hear _Alfred's baited breath on the other end of the line, and swallows. "You busy...tommorow?"

Gilbert blinks, and dwells on it for a second. "Nope."

"Wanna, um..." Oh shit oh shit oh shit. "Work on the project then? Since we haven't like...gotten anything done today and it's almost time for you to leave?"

Matthew hears an extremely loud groan on the other end of the line, and Gilbert gives him a blank look. Finally, he nods. "Don't see why not."

_"I hate you more than life, Matthew Williams."_

"That's great Al. Um, I need to go now though so I'm going to hang up and..,bye!" Matthew rushes, and feels slightly guilty for hanging up on his friend so quickly.

Meanwhile, Gilbert hit send on the text he was sending.

_still wanting your fifty bucks?_

_yeah no shit._

_well, your friend makes some fucking amazing pancakes. just sayin'._

* * *

After Gilbert finally leaves, Matthew calls Alfred and is glad to see that his friend is still able to pick his phone up. However, he is not glad to be yelled at, because the first thing he gets after saying "Hey, Alfred?" is a _"You fucker, you're playing dirty!"_

He pauses, and wonders what the hell happened before Alfred elaborates.

_"You made him pancakes! You made him _pancakes_! Those are dirty tricks to win the bet, bro."_

Matthew can't remember telling Alfred that he had specifically cooked for (and with) Gilbert but guesses he must have told him when he called earlier on in the day.

"Too bad." He says casually, as he sits at his desk in his room and holds up the ball of silver string that his cat is pawing at. "All's fair in everything man."

_"You're cheap." _Alfred grumbles, then sniffs.

"Sure sure." Matthew says, and in the distance on the other line he hears a matronly voice call out Alfred's name.

_"Well, the shrieking banshee calls. Later, bro."_

"Alright, bye dude."

_"Oh and Matt?"_

"Yeah?"

_"I'm still going to win though, so suck on that."_

"No you're not. _Swallow _that."

_"Fuck you."_

"I love you too."

Alfred makes a retching noise as he hangs up, and Matthew makes some sort of reciprocatory and equally disgusting sound in return. His cat meows and claws at his leg, and he picks Kumasomething up. Fat, white, and long-haired, his cat looks like the one that all the villains stroke and dictate their evil plans to. So Matthew pets Kumjirou (last time he's naming anything in a foreign language) and puts on the deepest, more sinister voice he can muster.

"He shall never win." Matthew says, then throws back his head to let out what he thinks is a deep and guttural laughter. He thinks it rather suits him, but his mother had been walking by at the time, and is in tears as she tells Matthew that he sounds like "one of those ladies from the opera" and how he could consider a new career path. He totally does not eat dinner with a pout, and that pout is totally not lifted when, before going to bed, he gets a text from Gilbert telling him what time he's coming over.


	10. Chapter 10

**Relationship Status: It's Complicated**

Chapter Ten

* * *

"Don't do that." Alfred commands, and Matthew ceases tapping his pencil along to whatever upbeat song he's listening to and raises his eyebrows innocently.

"Don't do what?" He asks, tapping commencing once again as he clicks the mouse vicariously with his other hand. Alfred gives an irritated glare towards him before turning back to his computer screen.

"Doucheface." Alfred mutters. "You're a doucheface and your stupid pancakes are made out of douche that your doucheface creates."

"You're jealous." Matthew says airily. "That me and Gilbert are hanging out and soon you'll owe me fifty bucks."

It's Friday afternoon and they are in the computer lab right now, doing a project for math which requires them to do financial assesments. Matthew and Alfred did not listen to instructions and have not bothered to ask for them, so they are looking at what people around them are doing. It looks like they are doing something on the cost of living and fitting it within your salary, so Matthew is looking up the salary of a RCMP officer while Alfred is seeing how much a wife will cost him.

"You're gay." Matthew had pointed out, and Alfred shrugged it off, saying a wife will get him a sizeable inheritance from the conservative side of his family. It was a fair enough point and right after, Matthew had gotten a text asking if he was free after school to chill from Gilbert. It's given Matthew a slight high, much like most of the week has, and it causes Matthew to do irritating things like tapping his pencil to songs that Alfred detests and being extremely-to-the-point-of-scary cheerful.

If there wasn't a bet, Alfred would probably be laughing at Matthew and egging him on, hopefully getting him to do something stupid very willingly in this state. But fifty bucks is at stake and Alfred is reminding Gilbert on a daily basis that he's supposed to be on Alfred's side.

Especially when he hears stories from the week where Gilbert's gone over to learn how to make pancakes, Gilbert and Matthew have pigged out a cafe together, and the richest one of all, Gilbert and Matthew planning to go see a horror movie together that Alfred is too chicken to watch.

He's happy that Matthew may actually finally get somewhere with Gilbert, but goddamnit his fifty bucks matters more!

Today, in particular, has been peeving for Alfred, since he had eaten Matthew's pb & j sandwich, and instead of flipping dick in that passive aggressive way of his, Matthew shyly (_all an act_, Alfred is still bitterly muttering to himself) asked Gilbert, who had come over to ask something about history class, for five bucks to buy lunch from the servatory in the cafeteria. Gilbert had no cash, but he did have his debit card handy and the two ditched him to wait in line together and talk about some reality T.V show that Alfred vaguely remembers Lovino Vargas rambling about.

Lars was there too, but it doesn't count because Lars had also ditched Alfred to go wait in line, and was therefore was on the same low level.

It did not end well for Alfred because though the line was short, by the time they had come back he had already fallen victim to a vicious purple nurple attack from an overenthusiastic Korean friend of his and the same friend had taken an unfairly large bite out of his burger and reminded him that he owed him two dollars. He had called Arthur to his defense, but Arthur just laughed in his face as he was mercilessly bullied. It had been Kiku that had finally pried him away, and Alfred told Arthur that Kiku was always his favourite person in the world and Arthur told him that he didn't give a shit and would be relaying the information to Matthew, who didn't give a shit either because Gilbert Beilschmidt had bought him lunch.

So needless to say, even though Gilbert hadn't stuck around after they had finished buying food, Alfred has been put in a bad mood. At least Matthew has had a test the previous period, and he doesn't have to hear stories from History.

Matthew's back to tapping, and Alfred tears his eyes away from his screen to hit him on the back of the head. Matthew deflects him easily, because that's just how he is, and continues to look at what kind of sick whip (a term he has picked up from Sadiq, who always refers to his car as that) a job as an officer will get him. Mr. Braginski sees the scuffle, and walks towards the two. Alfred quickly minimizes his screen and pulls up one on wedding dresses, while Matthew continues looking at cars.

"Boys." Braginski says. "Were you paying attention to the instructions?"

"Of course." They chime in response.

"You were supposed to find a house and calculate the appreciative value."

That's a good reason for why everyone else is looking through houses (or at least when Braginski walks by) and with a sigh, the two pull up websites for the local real estate companies.

As soon as Braginski leaves, Matthew is back to looking at badass cars he probably won't be able to afford and Alfred is back to scanning through a website for mail order brides.

"I would be careful if I were you." Matthew comments, looking over at the screen. "Braginski might catch you."

"Nah," Alfred mutters, looking through profiles of women claiming to be from pure Eastern European descent. "I'm more scared that I'll end up finding Braginski on here."

Matthew chokes and coughs and suppresses his laugh because Braginski's turned around and is behind the two again. Matthew tries kicking Alfred underneath the table but Alfred remains blissfully oblivious until Braginski taps him on his shoulder.

"Alfred Jones." The tone is crisp, and Matthew trains his eyes on his screen so that he is not pulled in to the trouble. "That is not a house."

Alfred blinks dumbly, and then replies with a "Well with that rack, she could be one."

It's answers like these that seems amazing in Alfred's head, but becomes regrettable as soon as it leaves his mouth. Braginski orders him to switch places with Raivis Galante, who has been previously sitting at the computer right beside Braginski. Raivis looks relieved to be moved, and Alfred looks extremely irritated. Before he leaves, Matthew tells him that at least it's more convenient for him to bother Braginski now.

"How about you just text me?" Matthew asks.

"How about you suck my dick?" Alfred suggests and Matthew cheerfully gives him the finger as he packs up and leaves.

Turns out, Feliks, the guy with the complicated Polish last name, is sitting there as well, and he is the only rival Matthew and Alfred have in annoying Braginski. Alfred finds out, much to Braginksi's displeasure, that Feliks is a great ally as well and together, with their constant bickering which is accented by Feliks' habit of talking like a valley girl, they can run Braginski up a wall.

Of course, Alfred is still fuming, but he's glad that his best friend's moving out of that shy-and-kind-of-creepy-kid-with-a-crush phase and into a more active one.

But his _fifty bucks_!

* * *

"So how was class with Braginski?" Gilbert asks, as they walk together to the community library in the grey afternoon.

Every time they hang out, they start with the intention of working on their history project. It's been happening throughout the week, but no actual progress has been made since the course always seems to divert.

Neither complain because it's providing them a good opportunity for getting to know each other. One of Matthew's insecurities is that he's a boring person when sober, but they seem to be doing a good job of keeping each other entertained. Contrary to popular belief, Gilbert is capable of listening as well, and Matthew is able to share stories that sound mildly impressive, stupid, funny, or a combination of the three.

"He moved Alfred." Matthew says, pulling his hood up because it looks like it's about to rain. "Because he was looking at mail order brides online."

"Yeah? But I thought he was..."

"Yeah, he is." Matthew shrugs. "He wants one anyways, because that's how he is."

Gilbert gives a short barking laugh, face tilted upwards to scan for rain clouds. "Man, I hope it rains. I fucking love rain."

Matthew stores this information in his brain for later, and says "Same here. But when it's warm, like this."

"Awesome." Gilbert grins, and he's still looking up to the clouds. This allows Matthew to stare at him at his free will without looking like a creeper (to Gilbert.) "It should rain any moment now."

But it doesn't rain, which Gilbert writes off as a fluke of nature and says that he just _knows _it will rain on their way home, also implying that he'll be walking Matthew back to his home.

For good measure, he adds that it's to say hi to his mother again, which makes Matthew turn red and sputter slightly. It's worth it, because after Gilbert gives Matthew a noogie (something which the blond seems to always be on the receiving end of, no matter whom the person), he keeps an arm around Matthew in that touchy-feely way of his. It stops being potentially romantic in Matthew's head as soon as Gilbert grabs his chin with the hand attached to the arm around him, and wrenches it in the direction of two dogs fighting across the street.

But hey, he still appreciates it and the fact that it lasts all the way to the library.

When they get there, he's glad there aren't many people he knows from school. There are a few randoms here and there, but having never conversed with them, he feels assured that he won't slip into his socially awkward persona.

They take one of the round working tables by the window, dumping their bags on it and claiming it as their territory. They simultaneously slump into the wooden chairs, and no move is made to unpack their bags or go up and get books.

"Christ. I haven't been in here forever." Gilbert says, watching idly as a middle aged woman fights with the librarian over a fine.

"Same." Matthew agrees, even though he came just the other day to get a few books. But it was with his mother, so it doesn't count.

"If we take out a book, can we take it on your card?" Gilbert asks. "I have a large fine on mine and I don't feel like paying it."

"Really? How much?"

Gilbert shrugs, thinks for a moment, and replied in a non-chalant voice. "Ninety bucks or so, give or take."

Matthew gawps at the amount. That's a decent amount of money, and his own fines have never exceeded $1.50 (because he never has too much money on him at one time anyways) and he always pays them in fear that the collection agency will be called on him.

Gilbert laughs at his expression, and leans across the table to tap the underside of Matthew's chin, causing him to close his mouth.

"Don't get too impressed." He jokes, and winks and Matthew just continues to stare.

And stare.

Because behind Gilbert, he's just seen someone disappear into the shelves. Someone who he recognizes because Alfred has helped him jokingly plot his demise during the two week span that the someone had been reportedly involved with Gilbert Beilschmidt.

"Kid?" Gilbert is snapping his fingers in front of him and Matthew quickly snaps back to attention.

"S-sorry." He apologizes quickly. "Zoned out for a second."

"On my sexiness, I hope." Gilbert snorts, and because it's such an Alfred-like response, Matthew rolls his eyes.

"Totally."

And there will be no mention that Matthew actually has zoned out while admiring Gilbert before. Matthew's phone buzzes, and he digs it out of his pocket.

_hows it goin w. the dude_

It's Alfred, who has surprised Matthew today by not stalking to them to the library like he had initially threatened after school.

_good. but Roderich is here :/_

_good, nows ur chance to ask gilbert out before the enemy gets his hands on him_

Matthew doesn't actually hate Roderich or anything, since he has been provided no real reason, but fact remains that he is his only male competitor.

Okay, maybe that isn't true either, because they supposedly lasted only two weeks before calling it off and Roderich has reportedly been seen with someone else, a someone else who happens to be a _girl_ that's in Matthew and Alfred's maths class.

_no._

_yes_

_no_

_yes_

_the amount of food i buy you exceeds 50 bucks. no._

_bitch_

* * *

Alfred sighs at his friend's helplessness. Fifty bucks should _so _be worth eight months of crushing and sexual frustration, but Matthew refuses to see the light. Alfred sometimes feels like he is betraying Matthew by conferring with Gilbert, but he reminds himself that in the bigger picture, he'll end up being the hero because of how much he has assisted Matthew.

So he decides to text someone else instead, someone else he's sure will take a better course of action.

_yo that rodrick guy is there at the library and matt's turned his game off heads up_

He hits send, but then realizes that maybe telling Gilbert that Roderich is in the building is not the smartest idea, so he attempts to cancel it. The message's already sent though.

Well shit.

* * *

"Yo, I'm going to start looking for books, okay?" Gilbert says, voice slightly distracted as he replies to the text. Matthew looks up and nods, and watches Gilbert get up and disappear into the bookshelves. Then he remembers that Roderich Edelstein is probably lurking around the corner, and decides he's going to go look for a book as well.

He's stealthy and quiet (the latter mostly due to aforementioned social awkwardness) so he manages to navigate through shelves easily without getting detected. He can hear Gilbert whistling tunelessly,and is walking casually on the other side of the shelf.

_Thud._

"Gilbert! Watch where you're going!"

Matthew freezes in his spot, not daring to peek through bookshelves lest the people on the other side catch a glimpse of him creeping.

"Ricky!" And that is no doubt Gilbert's voice, and he's answered with an annoyed sigh. "What? I thought you stopped wanting to be called Roddy after you saw a guy with the same name in one of Lud's special movies."

There's a choked noise, and then Matthew hears another thud as a book comes in contact with what he assumes is Gilbert's head. There's laughter from Gilbert, and soon enough, the second guy joins in again.

"I haven't seen you in a long time." The second voice says. "As great as it's been, not being annoyed by you all the time. Are you here with anyone right now?"

"Yup, a guy called Matt. We're working on our history project right now. Or we're supposed to."

"Are you busy afterwards?"

_Oh._

"Nah, not really. Just gonna drop him back to his place then probably go back home."

_Ohh._

"Do you want to come over for dinner then? My mother's friend is coming, so my mom's cooking enough to feed an army."

_Ohhhh._

"Yeah sure. 'Round five or six?"

"Sounds good. And Gilbert?"

"No."

"Please try to behave yourself."

"I'll _think _about it."

As they say goodbye, it registers in Matthew's head that Gilbert's probably going to be heading back to their table so he bolts to it before the other reaches. He makes it just on time and manages to even out his breathing as Gilbert approaches, and thinks that maybe being occasionally unnoticeable has its perks.

* * *

_"This is what happens when you don't act fast." _Alfred tuts on the other line, though his voice has more sympathy in it than before. _"Otherwise the bad guy's gonna get him first."_

"Roderich's not _bad, _Alfred, he's just..." Matthew sighs, watching as Kumajirou seems to bop his head to the gangster rap blasting from his tiny stereo. Sadiq's lent him a CD, and it provides surprisingly good comfort. "Luckier than me, I guess. Took more initiative."

There's silence on the other end, and then, _"My heart bleeds for you."_

"Thanks."

_"Seriously bro, that's sort of sad."_

"Don't rub it in, man."

_"Well...ask him out."_

It's been the millionth time Alfred has suggested it during this phone conversation, where Matthew has been relaying the events. At the library, Gilbert and Matthew spent half an hour talking about the results of the school basketball season, then another hour playing an online game that they had a common love for. Neither will ever disclose the name to anyone, not even Alfred, because it's too embarrassing to still be seen playing it. It's just that Gilbert had accidentally picked up Matthew's phone when it buzzed and saw a game notification.

It was bonding time, even if it was odd and slightly misplaced, but Matthew tried to enjoy it as much as he could. The walk home was also enjoyable, complete with Gilbert putting on a charming act when his mom answered the door. But a certain Roderich Edelstein was in the back of his mind (and still is) and no doubt, was in the back of Gilbert's as well. He can't blame Roderich just for being more forward than he is...and also, maybe there's nothing between them and it's completely platonic and he's over-thinking things like usual.

Not like he has a place to say anything really, since Roderich and Gilbert apparently go way back, while Matthew and Gilbert have just started actually hanging out within this week.

Yeah, an eight month crush can have a negative aftermath.

Matthew's generally not the jealous type, and he prides himself on being laid back and not fitting the high school stereotype of a zealous sixteen year old.

But ugh, _seriously_, Christ, things always have to interfere. He was so sure he was going to win the bet too, but now it looks like he might actually have to take some _action_.

_"Look, Matt...worst comes to worst, we can call off the bet."_

Matthew pauses for a second. "Wait, what?"

_"Yeah, I mean the only thing that is stopping you from jumping his bones is the fact that you're a greedy little bastard." _Alfred states in a very serious voice. _"So if I call off the bet, will you ask him out?"_

Matthew thinks long and hard, all of ten seconds before replying with an affirmative.

_"Good. Oh, but as repayment to the greatness that is me, you need to tell me who's going gay for me."_

"Sorry?" Matthew frowns, and Alfred groans.

_"Are you that stupid? It's not even been that long, just some weeks!"_

Matthew knits his eyebrows and tries to remember...remember...oh. Yeah.

He remembers.

"Fine." He says. "I'll ask Gilbert out, and I'll tell you who likes you right after. But what's in it for me?"

_"Uhh, you get to go out with the guy you've been stalking forever?"_

"I do not _stalk _him!" Matthew protests.

_"Yeah, that's how you know his favourite colour is blue."_

"_Prussian _blue," Matthew corrects, then catches himself. "Dude, no. He told me during History yesterday."

_"Of course."_

"I'm serious."

_"Suuuure."_

In the end, Alfred reduces Matthew to a babbling mess by pointing out all of his stalker-like qualities, eventually leading to Matthew hanging up, completely red faced.

On the other end of the line, Alfred is feeling maybe just a tiny bit guilty.


	11. Chapter 11

**Relationship Status: It's Complicated**

Chapter Eleven

* * *

Comfort can sometimes be found in the unexpected sources.

For Alfred, it's a blog that he fills with a lot of things that will put him in the bad books with everyone in his family.

For Braginski, it's a Spanish soap opera for which, according to a receipt that Alfred may or may not have casually pilfered from his briefcase, he has bought all eight seasons.

For Matthew, it comes in the surprising form of someone from school that he meets at the library, which proves to be somewhat of a good listener.

It's Wednesday afternoon, and Matthew has set out to the library to study for his law test the next day. Alfred is busy babysitting a snotty six year old cousin of his, so Matthew went alone. Matthew _was _going to suggest to Gilbert that they should work on their history project, maybe. The reply he received was something along the lines of him being busy (with _Roderich_, most likely) so Matthew finds himself alone as he walks to the library.

When he gets there, it's no better, because he can't really see anyone he knows, except for Kiku, who is at one of the library computers. He takes a seat by a window, on a plush armchair, and cracks open his books to attempt to study. Rupert's over for the day, and he would rather not hear him and his mother engage in couple-like activities, such as baking and making goofy faces at each other, especially since Rupert is a giant dick and no boyfriend of his mom within this year has lasted _this _long.

Five minutes into him deciding what colour pen will be the best to take notes, someone taps Matthew on the shoulder, startling him slightly.

"Yo."

Matthew blinks. And then remembers his manners, and replies with an "Oh, hey Sadiq."

During the relatively short time that they have sat beside each other during history class, Matthew and Sadiq have developed something that could pass as a friendship. Sadiq seems to be keen to initiate Matthew into the suburban thug life, one song at a time, and is also keen on getting information on Matthew's situation with Gilbert. They have even gone as far as to add each other online, and to give each other their numbers, though the only thing that's been texted between them is "tell vargas im gona b late to class".

Sadiq dumps himself into the armchair beside Matthew, taking one of the earphones out of his ear. He does not bother to take off his big why's sunglasses however, nor his red baseball cap.

"Whatcha got there?" He asks, as he heaves his bag up on his lap to take out his homework.

"Law," Matthew replies, flicking through his notebook. "You?"

"Psych." Sadiq waves a thin textbook. "Just waitin' for my friend to haul his ass over here. Weren't you supposed to be with Gilbert?"

"He's busy." Matthew says, trying to give his most nonchalant shrug.

"What about the movies this weekend? Did y'all go?"

"He was busy." Well, to be specific, Gilbert wanted to postpone going to the movies till later in the day because he had to go somewhere (probably with _Roderich_) and Matthew couldn't make it so they had to call it off for later. It had made Matthew mope until Alfred thwacked him upside his head and told him to man up.

"Sucks. Plans for the week?"

"None." Matthew says, and Sadiq sighs (as he seems to be prone to be doing for some odd reason) as he adjusts his baseball cap.

There is an awkward silence for a moment

"I'm sorry." Sadiq says finally. "I've never given gay advice before."

"Um, it's okay…" Matthew assured. "I…uh, I generally don't give out advice either."

"What? Really? Don't you have like, chicks coming to you all the time for advice on boys and clothes?"

"No…um, not really." Matthew scratches his head. He would be offended, if Sadiq wasn't sounding so ridiculously genuine. "And I'm just…uh, not the best person to go to for fashion advice either."

He gestures to his outfit, which is his mom's white college t-shirt and a pair of blue and orange plaid board shorts that he fished out from his closet earlier on this morning. It's topped off with a ratty pair of black skate shoes that are the bane of his mother's existence.

Sadiq raises his eyebrows, presses his lips together, and nods. "So I guess this is why ya got trouble with your chop."

"My…yeah. Um, I don't know what to do actually." Matthew shrugs, picking up on the lingo quickly. "I, uh…well, my general plan is to…um…ask him out."

Oh god, he's actually said it _out loud. _To someone that's not Alfred, to boot. It somehow feels like a heavy weight has been somewhat pushed off his chest.

"Well…" Sadiq scratches his stubble thoughtfully. "You haven't gotten anywhere with that, have you?"

"Seems like it."

"Well, you could…I could talk to him for you." Sadiq starts taking out his phone, but Matthew jumps out of his seat.

"No—!" He exclaims, earning odd looks from other patrons in the library. He blushes furiously, apologizing to no one in particular, and slumps back into his seat.

"I want to do it myself." Matthew mumbles. Because then he can select what he says and not have embarrassing embellishments courtesy of anyone else. "In person."

"Ah." Sadiq nods again, and if it weren't for the big sunglasses and sideways hat, Matthew would think that he was sitting in a therapist's chair. "Do tell me more."

Matthew opens his mouth to tell him that it's okay, he's told all that he needs to tell. But he has a habit of trusting people easy, so the first words that spill out of the mouth are "I'm jealous."

And after that follows an outline of why exactly he's jealous, most of the things revolving on Roderich and how Roderich just being there ruins all his plans but he doesn't like to voice this out loud because it makes him sound like an eleven year old with a crush that's too shy to do anything.

He's _sixteen._

"Roderich, eh?" Sadiq asks, then his lips quirk up a bit.

"Yeah." Matthew searches his brain for a moment. "Are exes even supposed to _that _friendly with each other?"

"Fuck if I know." Sadiq shrugs. "I wouldn't be worried if I were you."

"Really?" Matthew asks. Sadiq opens his mouth, pauses, and then Matthew sees a little grin.

"But yenno, you should pick up yer game. Just in case."

Matthew is about to say he already knows that, but something in Sadiq's tone catches him off guard.

And suddenly, Matthew feels like everyone except for him is aware of something.

* * *

Matthew gets a call later on that evening from Gilbert, asking him if he was free tomorrow afternoon.

"Uh, I'm not sure…" Matthew says, even though he fully knows that he is. "I'll have to check and see."

There is a long pause, and then Matthew realizes that Gilbert probably thinks he's checking right now.

"My mom's out right now, so I'll have to wait for her to call back." He explains, and gets an "Oh" from the other end.

There's more silence, then

_"Um, yeah…because we need to start working on this history project eventually, yeah?"_

"Yeah…" Matthew swallows slightly. He doesn't want to point out that it's been Gilbert that's been busy through the week. "Well, I'll let you know in class tomorrow?"

_"Yeah…okay."_

"Yeah."

_"Okay well…Later."_

"Kay, um…Bye."

And with that awkward goodbye, they hang up. In person, conversation always seems to flow much easier, but on the phone, it's sparse. Matthew hasn't really paid attention to it before, but now that _Roderich_ (he imagines that if this is ever written out, every time the boy's name is said, it would be emphasized in italics) is in the picture again, Matthew is paying a lot of attention to it.

Alfred says it reminds him of something middle-schoolers do, but says it's okay because according to him:

1) It's cute when Matthew gets jealous

2) And because Alfred thinks it's cute when Matthew gets jealous, Gilbert will sure think it's cute

3) And if Gilbert thinks it's cute, it will earn Matthew extra brownie points

Matthew reminds Alfred that in order for Gilbert to find it cute that he's jealous, he'll have to _know _that he's jealous, and in turn it means that Gilbert will find out everything. Since he doesn't know that Gilbert knows already, he insists on not letting Gilbert know he's jealous, even in a subtle way. Alfred says that if Matthew moves any slower with Gilbert, he'll be going backwards, but gives what Matthew suspects is a knowing grin.

This doesn't sit well with him at all.

* * *

"Matthew Williams. Stop being a pussy." Alfred repeats for the umpteenth time. "Also, pass me a protractor."

"That's not nice." Matthew says half-heartedly, fishing out a slightly dirty protractor from the depths of his backpack and tossing it towards Alfred.

"Truth hurts."

They are doing in-class work in math class, and Alfred is trying to give Matthew special pep talks since his friend seems kind of down. Matthew's just finished telling him that after History, Gilbert cornered him and asked him if Sunday morning was fine for going to the library. Matthew stuttered out an affirmative, and was very close to asking him if after the library he wanted to go catch that horror movie. He was too slow on the uptake, and Antonio swiped Gilbert away before he could manage to spit the words out.

Of course, this hasn't run through too well with Alfred.

"This is why you need to move fast."

"Nah." Matthew shakes his head. "I don't want to interfere with anything that's happening."

"Nothing's happening, you big doof." Alfred hits Matthew with the protractor before using it. Thankfully, Braginski is floating around the class room and helping students, so he doesn't see it when Matthew pinches Alfred's nose shut before he gets a nasal "Sorry" from him.

"Just letting you know, man." Alfred says, rubbing his nose. "You keep this up, by the time you get around to doing anything, he's going to be gone."

For a self-proclaimed blissfully oblivious idiot, Alfred can sure give pretty blunt advice. But Matthew needs it, and he also needs to use it. He's just wondering when he's actually going to get around to doing it.

* * *

"Something got ya down, man?" Gilbert asks, looking intently at Matthew. Matthew immediately snaps back to the present, turning slightly pink at being caught.

"Oh no, um, nothing."

"Sure?"

"…Yeah, why?"

"You've been staring at the same page for the past few minutes."

Matthew blinks and looks down to see that oh yeah, he's still on the first page of the textbook he's supposed to be taking notes out of. They've been at the library for the past fifteen minutes, and unlike other times, have actually gotten down to work. Gilbert had pulled a stack of research books out from shelves and dumped them on the desk they were supposed to occupy. Matthew had taken a book to read, but found himself zoning out and thinking about what Alfred's been saying.

He supposes he does need to have a bit more initiative, now that there's actually competition in the picture. But he's never really been good at_ those_ kinds of competitions, since he's more of a "Well, maybe next time" kind of guy. But Alfred has kindly reminded him that:

a) Matthew has come far from the time that he ogled Gilbert from the back of chem. class, and it would be a shame to not put this new found friendship to use

b) He is calling the bet back on if Matthew does nothing at all

c) And worst comes to worst, Alfred will happily ask Gilbert out for Matthew, therefore saving them all a whole load of time and effort. Matthew is completely against this idea, because it will probably be used as an opportunity for Alfred to embarrass Matthew as much as possible, probably by letting Gilbert know that _Hey my buddy's been fantasizing about you forever, so wanna give it a go?_

So Matthew 's been contemplating on what course of action to take, and how much courage he's actually willing to muster up in order to swipe Gilbert before _Roderich _does.

"Um, I'm o-okay." He says, cursing his stammer that's come at an inopportune time. Gilbert continues looking at him, and Matthew coughs slightly. "Just, um, thinking about stuff."

"Yeah?"

Matthew nods, and Gilbert's brows slightly knit together. All this staring is getting Matthew slightly nervous and fidgety, and he tries giving a small laugh to break the awkward silence, but it comes out as a weird sound, further worsening the situation.

"Um, okay, well…" Gilbert scratches the back of his head looking thoughtful. He glances at the library clock quickly, then back at Matthew. "Wanna take a break and get some ice cream then?"

"I have no money." Matthew says, and Gilbert shrugs. "Don't worry about it. Let's just go, or we won't be able to make it on time."

"Make it where on time?" Matthew asks, and Gilbert waves him off. "You'll see."

So they pack their bags, leaving the stack of books on the table much to the disdain of the watching librarian. They head out, and the parking lot is relatively empty like the library itself.

"We need to go over there." Gilbert points to a park off in the distance, that's beside a basketball court and another parking lot. "The ice cream truck will be here in fourteen minutes."

"The ice cream truck?" Matthew repeats, slightly incredulous as the start walking towards the park. "You know when it comes?"

"I have my sources." Gilbert says, kicking an empty pop can out of the way. "My brother, actually."

"Your brother?" Matthew frowns, not seeing how the two correlate. Gilbert just replies with a grin and a "You'll see."

Matthew digs into the pockets of his cargo shorts, looking to see if there's any spare change that he's missed. "But I don't have money."

"I told you, don't stress about it." Gilbert slaps Matthew's back, stumbling forward slightly. "Let me and my awesomeness handle it. I don't have any money either, so no worries."

"No money? Wait, then how are you gonna...?"

"No worries." Gilbert repeats yet again, and reaches up to ruffle Matthew's hair.

_cheep cheep cheep_

Gilbert stops, grin frozen and hand still hovering over Matthew's head as the cheeping continues. Matthew stops as well, giving Gilbert a curious look.

"Dude?"

"Is there something on me?" Gilbert asks, teeth still gritted.

"Um..." Matthew is around the same height as Gilbert, but he doesn't need to raise himself onto his toes to see over Gilbert's head. A yellow ball of fluff is on Gilbert's head, staring at Matthew with the most godforsaken beady eyes he has ever seen. "I...uh, I think a bird landed on your head."

"You're _shitting_ me."

Matthew shakes his head, mouth slightly agape at the fact that a bird has just landed and settled on Gilbert's head within the first five minutes of them being outside.

Gilbert, in turn, continues staring at Matthew until the blond gets the hint.

"Here, uh," Matthew slowly raises his hands, as to not completely scare off the bird. "Hold still, and I'll get that for you."

Gilbert complies, and with a lot of caution, Matthew reaches up and tries to cup the bird.

The series of actions that led to the following events are hazy in Matthew's head, but he vaguely remembers something about actually managing to get the bird for a fraction of a second before it rose up and unleashed its fury on Matthew.

After that, all he remembers is a yellow flurry attacking him, pecking him anywhere and everywhere at every given opportunity as he flails his arms, trying to get it to go away. Gilbert steps in, trying to save Matthew, but ends up getting hit smack in the middle of his face with a flying hand.

"Ow! Fuck!" Gilbert holds a hand up to his nose, as Matthew repeats his mantra of "Oh shit oh fuck oh shit oh fuck get it off me get it _off_!"

The bird demon from hell is holding its own, and Matthew is very close to just running away. His bag's already dropped to the ground, and holy _shit _the bird just pecked him on his fucking nose —

"Gotcha!" Gilbert exclaims, finally managing to trap the bird. He cups his hands, preventing escape, and Matthew pants as he brushes hair out of his flushed face.

"Holy..." He says as he tries to catch his breath. "What _was _that?"

There's still loud cheeping, and Matthew eyes Gilbert's hands wearily as he picks up his fallen bag. The cheeps die down, and within ten seconds, everything is quiet.

Gilbert looks down at his hands, noticing the sudden lack of movement.

"Fuck." They both say in unison.

"Um, I think you killed it."

Gilbert's eyes widen exponentially, and he immediately opens his hands. Matthew's hands immediately shoot up in front of his face to prevent another merciless attack...

And he peeks through his arms to see the yellow bird, hovering on eye level with Gilbert.

"You know..." Gilbert says quietly, so he doesn't provoke the flying creature again. "This fella's actually kinda cute."

"For being a spawn of Satan, yeah." Matthew spits. He's normally not like this, it's just that he was _nearly killed by a fucking bird holy shit_ that has him set off.

The bird cheeps again, and both boys jump slightly. Then the bird floats upwards, and lands once again on Gilbert's head.

"I think it's claimed you." Matthew says, lips quirking up a bit at the sight.

"Take a picture." Gilbert says. "Quickly."

Matthew complies, taking out his phone and turning on the camera. He gets a picture of Gilbert trying to give his best smirk without looking nervous, and the yellow bird just chilling upon platinum hair.

It's actually rather really cute, and Matthew decides that it'd work as a perfect caller ID picture for Gilbert.

"Are we good?" Gilbert asks, and Matthew flashes a thumbs up. "Alright."

Gilbert straightens up, and the bird is still on his head. "Okay. To the park."

"To the park."

They start walking again, but the bird does not flutter off Gilbert's head. It stays there, and Gilbert looks a bit jumpy as they walk.

"Are you okay?" Matthew asks, looking slightly concerned. Gilbert just keeps his eyes straight ahead.

"Every step I take, I feel like this bird is going to shit on me." He says casually. Matthew automatically reaches a hand up again to shoo away the bird with hopes that it won't try to murder him this time, but Gilbert smacks away his hand.

"Don't provoke it." He says warningly. "Or it might end up actually shitting on my head. And I'll make you clean it all out if it does."

Suddenly, Matthew is plagued with mental images of him helping Gilbert wash out his hair. Specifically, the two showering together. He fights down a furious blush as they walk, Gilbert looking like he's balancing on a tight rope while Matthew tries to keep his thoughts as pure as possible and think about the flip side of things.

One of which is that even though he has been a victim of a vicious bird attack, his mood has actually lifted by a lot.

* * *

_Meanwhile..._

"Sometimes I wonder." Alfred sighs, sitting on the cold ramp in an empty skate park. "How can someone who spends so much time with me and be so awkward?"

"I wonder." Lars replies as he chews on a piece of licorice, sprawled on his back along the slope of the ramp.

Alfred narrows his eyes at the newest member of the let's-get-Matt-some-tail club. So far, the member count is at Alfred, Francis, Sadiq, and Lars. Arthur doesn't count because he is doing this for amusement. At the same time, Sadiq shouldn't count either because he's still getting used to the fact that they're hooking two guys up, and doesn't really want anyone else in his crew to know that he's doing something as prissy as match making, but Sadiq seems to get along with Matthew and is good at being blunt with the boy.

"Is that sarcasm I detect?" Alfred asks, and Lars shrugs.

"I think." Francis suggests from Alfred's side. "We should tell Matthew the truth."

Francis and Alfred had decided to meet up at the skate park to discuss things, and had found Lars already lying on a ramp. While talking, Alfred had let slip the situation with Matthew.

Alfred gives Francis a punch on his shoulder. "Do you want to see me die?"

"Barbarian." Francis rubs his shoulder, giving a look of great disdain. "I was suggesting you tell him the truth about Roderich and Gilbert."

"Why?"

"Because it would save a lot of trouble." Francis points out. "I think it will save Matthew this entire unnecessary heart ache. He might even move faster."

"Nah, it's fun watching him get jealous." Alfred waves it off, and Lars raises an eyebrow.

"Remind me to never be your best friend."

Alfred sticks his tongue out. "My methods may be cruel, but they're effective. See how me telling Gilbert worked?"

"And what if Gilbert didn't have any interest in Matthew?" Lars points out and Alfred heaves a great sigh.

"Did that happen?"

"Well no, but that's not my-"

"So then shut up. I got this, dude."

Lars rolls onto his stomach, crossing his arms and resting his forehead against the cool ramp.

"So," he says, voice muffled against the ramp and his arms. "What's your plan next, O great and mighty hero?"

"Simple." Alfred shrugs, and leans in as if he's telling a big secret. Nobody shows any interest, but he speaks in a melodramatic whisper anyways. "I just gotta talk to Gilbert."

* * *

Matthew soon finds out the source of Gilbert's accurate knowledge on Ice Cream Truck timings. They're waiting in the parking lot beside the park, Matthew taking pictures of the newly christened Gilbird on Gilbert's phone, and soon, the familiar jingle grows louder and louder.

A large white ice cream truck drives up the road, and pulls into the parking lot. Kids have started to charge towards the parking lot, but Gilbert has a one up on them by sitting by the exact spot the truck is designated to stop.

"Bitches ain't got nothing on this." He states, as there is some shuffling within the truck and the shutters on the window is open. The sound of Enrique Iglesias pours out, and someone tells someone else in a deep voice that they're turning the music down.

The person turns to face out the serving window, and Matthew's eyes widen as he barely contains a noise of surprise. Icy blue eyes stare down the pair, while Gilbert just gives his best shit eating grin.

"I'd like a vanilla cream cone." Gilbert says, and turns to Matthew. "And a..."

Matthew has been staring at the sticker of the SpongeBob popsicle, and Gilbert catches on.

"And that yellow thing for Matt."

"Go away, Gilbert." Ludwig replies. "I'm working."

"Hurry up!" A kid shouts from behind the line forming up, and Gilbert steps to the side, pulling Matthew with him so that Ludwig can take the orders of the kids lining up.

"C'mon, why don't you cut your favourite big bro a bit of slack?" Gilbert asks, pouting as Ludwig starts taking and filling orders for the kids.

"I told you this last time." Ludwig sounds slightly irritated, as he passes a kid his rainbow explosion popsicle. "I'm not giving you or your friends free treats."

"But Lud_dy_!" Gilbert whines, much to the displeasure of his younger brother. He slings an arm around Matthew's waist, shaking him slightly as he draws him close. "That's not fair! What if this isn't my friend? What if he's my _date_?"

Matthew immediately turns red, even though he knows it's a joke. Ludwig looks directly at him, then sighs. After he collects change from another kid, he retreats back into the truck. He comes back out, handing one SpongeBob popsicle to the kid who just paid. He passes one to Matthew and says, "On the house. Because I pity you."

"Thanks." Matthew mumbles, not sure what else to say.

"Where's mine?" Gilbert demands, and Ludwig shakes his head. "Share."

Gilbert steps in front of the last kid in line, eliciting a loud "C'mon!". The arm around Matthew's waist is still there, and Matthew finds himself being dragged as well.

"It's what you get for telling the awesome me to hurry up." He informs the irritated child, who gives him the finger and calls him a fag before walking away.

"That's not what your mom said last night!" Gilbert calls back, and Ludwig reaches out the window to flick his brother on the head.

"Stop bullying young kids." Ludwig says sternly, and Gilbert mimics him in a high pitched voice.

"Then give me my ice cream." Gilbert dead pans and Ludwig replies with a firm "No."

"Bitch." Gilbert mutters, then clears his throat so that with a clear voice, he can call out "FELICIANO! YO, FELI!"

Ludwig glares at Gilbert. "That's just a dirty move - "

_cheep cheep cheep_

"Ve, hold on a second! I'm coming!"

"Where did you get the bird?" Ludwig asks, but Gilbert doesn't reply as another boy elbows in front of Ludwig.

"Ah, hello Gilbert!" A brunet in the same white apron and hat as Ludwig says with a wide smile upon seeing the two. He looks like Lovino, but younger and with lighter hair, and with an actual smile. "Who's your friend?"

"Matt." Matthew raises his hand in a wave, and Feliciano waves in return. His eyes travel downward, to see that Gilbert still has his arm around Matthew.

Not that Matthew's complaining, because on the inside he is flipping dick and freaking out and partying over the fact that it actually feels really comfortable.

"Oh, are you two on a date?" Feliciano asks, and Gilbert grins. Matthew is about to answer in the negative, as much as he'd like to answer in the positive, but Gilbert takes care of that. "Yep. And we were just wondering if we could have some ice cream, but Ludwig's not giving us any."

Feliciano tsks and retreats into the truck, admonishing Ludwig for being so rude to his very own brother. Meanwhile, Matthew wonders if he should unwrap his own ice cream.

"Do you still want this?" Gilbert asks, pointing to Matthew's frozen food, and Matthew shakes his head. Gilbert takes it and passes it inside to Ludwig, who is giving him a look of great unhappiness.

Feliciano comes out with a large paper carton with a banana in it, sandwiched between scoops of ice cream and covered in chocolate syrup. There's rainbow sprinkles and m&m's on it, complete with a cherry on top.

"On the house." Feliciano smiles as Gilbert detaches himself from Matthew and takes the treat, and passes Matthew some napkins and forks.

Ludwig mutters something about getting late to other places, and the window shutters to the truck are abruptly shut.

"Love you too, bro!" Gilbert says, and Gilbird cheeps along as well. The passenger seat's window of the truck is rolled down, and Ludwig sticks his head through the window.

"And don't bring that bird home!" He calls out. "The Edelsteins are coming over for dinner today."

Gilbert sticks his tongue out, and Matthew gives an uneasy laugh. Edelstein. _Roderich. _He likes to pride himself on not having jealousy issues, but hey.

_"_Man, I am fucking _starving._" Gilbert exclaims loudly, picking the cherry up. "Want this?"

"Yeah, sure." Matthew says, and pops it in his mouth. He chews on it thoughtfully, and starts playing with the stem.

They split the ice cream fifty-fifty, while Gilbert goes off on how exactly Ludwig and Feliciano have landed a gig being ice-cream truck drivers. Apparently, it's a business they've started on their own since they both got their driver's license, and they make decent cash off of it during the summer.

Matthew is thoroughly amused at this, and wonders if Feliciano's brother has ever tried it. Apparently, he has, but had lost his temper at Ludwig and refused to work with him again.

Gilbird has hovered around them the whole time, and Gilbert has gotten used to it. On the other hand, Matthew is extremely twitchy around the bird and is constantly on guard.

Gilbird seems to adjust to Gilbert quickly, even allowing Gilbert to hold him in his hands without going ape shit. Matthew is pretty sure it is some form of flirting when the other boy says, "If a little bird can get you that worked up, imagine what could a person as awesome as me could do", complete with a wink and bringing Gilbird near Matthew, who slides a full foot away.

Or maybe it's just rubbing in the fact that Gilbert has bonded with the bird, who surely has evil designs on Matthew.

Either ways, the day turns out to be good, and Matthew isn't brooding over how much he sucks and needs to get his act together and move fast.

But still, there's one particular problem that comes in the form of a dark-haired band geek that he's still seeing as competition, and Matthew thinks that he needs to find someone to confer with to boost his confidence.

Maybe Sadiq would be a willing ear tomorrow in History?


	12. Chapter 12

**Relationship Status: It's Complicated**

Chapter Twelve

* * *

It's Monday afternoon and Matthew walks down the hall, hoping that Vargas won't kill him for being late to class. It's not his fault; he and Lars, the only one who was suspiciously free during lunch, wandered off to find a new food joint that is slowly reaching God-like status with students for their grilled sandwiches. They had gotten lost on the way back, and made it to school a good ten minutes after the bell had rung.

It's always odd walking down the hall alone. It makes Matthew feel as if he is heading to his impending doom, and everyone has made way for him as he approaches the gates of hell. Or something like that. He just needs to turn the corner, walk down the hall and then—

Or not, because doom as already seemed to catch up with him in the form of someone who grabs the hood of his grey sweater from behind and pulls it over both his head and his face, trapping him.

"Aurgh!" He manages to get out. "Off me! Gerrof me!"

A very familiar hiss-like chuckle fills his ears and Matthew almost freezes in his steps. Except not, because he's more focused on coming out victorious from this ambush and when it comes to war, (potential) lovers can be the worst enemies.

He tries to elbow away his attacker, and Gilbert jumps onto his back, while laughing in the typical, deep throated, evil way as he lets go of Matthew's hood and wraps his arms around his neck. Matthew spins in a circle, trying to get him off, but Gilbert is obviously more experienced in latching on to people. He flails his arms, trying to pull Gilbert off, but it only results in him either giving Gilbert more support or him groping Gilbert.

"Gil- Garh!" Matthew grits out, as he gets a handful of what he's sure is ass, and moves his hands up to pull on the other's shirt, hopefully to strangle him into letting go. "What are you doing?"

"Winning!" Gilbert replies cheerfully, raising a hand to cup Matthew's cheeks then squish them together. "Onwards, noble steed! Don't want to get late for History!"

Matthew, in a last-ditch effort, hauls himself sideways and turns at the last moment, so that his back/the person on his back is slammed against the lockers.

"Ow! Jesus!" Gilbert finally lets go of Matthew, as he slides down the lockers in slight pain. Matthew turns to face him, pulling his hood down to reveal thoroughly messed up blond hair, complete with the errant curl that never goes away in the first place.

"Do- do not mount me in the middle of the hall!" Matthew exclaims rather loudly, as rare as it is for him. The wording takes a second to click, and the big indicator is the "That's what she said" comment Gilbert makes, followed by a wide grin.

And the laughter that has erupted from the classroom near the lockers, that had gone quiet as soon as they heard the loud crash of a body meeting thin metal. Matthew turns exponentially red at this, and a teacher steps out to check if everything is okay.

It happens to be Braginski, who is filling in for Mr. Wang's geography class. He recognizes both Matthew and Gilbert, the former which is cautiously helping the latter to his feet lest he get attacked again.

"Are you boys okay?" He asks, and Gilbert flashes him a thumbs up. "You boys should be in class."

"That's where we were going." Gilbert states. "Before I was assaulted by this fine young gentleman here. I just asked for some assistance to get to class, and next thing you know-"

"We were on our way to class." Matthew interrupts. "Just had a little accident."

Braginski narrows his eyes. Gilbert has what the kids call a shit-eating grin, and Matthew just looks flustered. Both boys like to bother him, but for now, he'll have to go with Matthew's story. Which is more likely to be truthful, anyways.

"Go to class." He says, trying his best to smile at the two boys. "Or you might end up in detention, yes?"

"Aye aye, captain." Gilbert gives a lazy salute, before throwing his arm around Matthew and wheeling them around. They start walking, Matthew slowly inching away from Gilbert in case he decides to jump on him again, and Gilbert checking back every now and then to make sure Braginski isn't watching.

Matthew knows from previous situations that asking why someone does something so weird never results in either a proper or appropriate answer.

Instead, he blurts out a " Did you grow up without a personal bubble or something?"

"Personal bubble?" Gilbert throws him a comically confused look. "What's that?"

"What-" then Matthew just shakes his head as they round the corner and Gilbert lets go of him. "Why aren't you in class?"

"Why aren't you?"

Matthew opens his mouth to reply, then stops. "I asked first."

"And?"

"And? Aren't you supposed to answer first?"

"Nope!" Gilbert brings a hand up to ruffle Matthew's hair. "Anyways, I _am_ in class. I went to go get a drink and got a little side tracked."

"I'll say." Matthew mutters, and digs his hands into his pockets. "I was with my friend for lunch and we had some trouble getting back to school."

"Yeah? Sucks. Don't worry though, Vargas didn't mark you absent. Sadiq said you were here, and Vargas didn't notice anything."

Matthew frowns for a second. "How's that going to work if I walk into class? And with my bag too, eh?"

Gilbert shrugs, looking nonchalant. "If he didn't see you then, he wouldn't see you now. Right?"

Matthew doesn't know whether or not it's a jab at his invisibility or not, but figures Gilbert actually means no harm. In fact, he's hoping that it will be the case, so that Vargas decides not to embarrass him in front of the class.

Thankfully, Matthew can slink into class unnoticed because everyone's working out of textbooks and Vargas is looking at beach-front villas on his computer. Matthew slides into his seat beside Sadiq, who's seen Matthew and Gilbert come into class together.

"Where were you?" He asks, looking Matthew over. "Woah, dude, you look like you've been..."

His eyes trail off to Gilbert, who's now booted Eduard out of his seat beside Francis, and plunked down to talk animatedly with the blond.

"Oh. I understand."

"Understand what?"

Sadiq jerks his chin in the direction of Gilbert and Francis, and Matthew follows the jerk, just to turn back and sputter "I wasn't doing th-_that_!"

"Mhm."

"I swear!"

"Yep."

Matthew regards Sadiq closely, then sighs. "If I did anything, I'd let you know."

"Not too much detail though." Sadiq says, holding a hand up. "I don't wanna hear how ya jerk him off in the washroom or something."

Matthew's jaw drops, and he smacks Sadiq on the shoulder, though Sadiq is secretly a human tank and barely registers the pain.

"That's embarrassing!"

"But it will happen." Sadiq says. "And I don't want to hear about it when it does."

Matthew decides that keeping quiet is the best course of action at the moment, and presses his lips together in a tight line. He is then distracted by a buzzing in his pocket, and pulls out his phone.

_DO NOT MOUNT ME IN THE HALLS_

"What's that?" Sadiq asks, and a reddening Matthew shakes his head. "Nothing."

Matthew casts a wide-eyed glance to where Gilbert is sitting. The platinum hair kid is flashing him a thumbs up, while Francis looks like he's aiming to break his own face with the wide smile he has on.

Matthew's not quite sure what to do right now, so keeping the wide-eyed stare, he decides that he will actually assert himself for a change by slowly raising up his middle finger and mouthing "Fuck off".

Gilbert mouths back a "Fuck?" and Matthew nods. In a move similar to what Alfred likes to pull out during parties, Gilbert starts lewd thrusting motions.

"Fuck?" He mouths again, and Matthew freezes. He does not know whether or not their friendship is developed enough for him to make an extremely obscene gesture in return or not, but Vargas saves him the trouble of that by calling him out and asking him why exactly he is flipping the bird in an educational environment. Matthew cannot think of an appropriate answer, and Vargas lets him know that he hadn't expected this from a nice student like Matthew.

And yet again, Matthew finds himself with a detention. Which doesn't make sense at all, especially since he's supposed to be the _good _kid.

* * *

"That is so romantic." Alfred dead pans. "Wow. Classic romance right there. I'm glad you don't need my help anymore."

"Shut up." Matthew mumbles. "Go away. At least it's going somewhere."

"Yeah man, totally. At this rate, Roderich has nothing to worry about."

Matthew shoots Alfred a withering look, and Alfred looks pointedly at him.

"For your information," Matthew sniffs. "I tried."

"I'm sure you did." Alfred puts his hand on Matthew's shoulder, and pats it. "I'm sure you did. Right Braginski?"

"Pardon?" Braginski looks up from the test papers of the ninth grader he is in process of failing.

"Do you think Matt here is getting ahead well with his crush?"

Braginski blinks owlishly, first at Alfred then at Matthew. "..I,'m sure he's doing fine."

"Lame." Alfred shakes his head. "Almost as lame as Matt. Do you know he got a detention too?"

Braginski looks at Alfred only this time. "Maybe he needs a better influence."

Alfred opens his mouth, looking offended, but cannot think of a comeback. He concedes this round to Braginski, who goes back to marking. Alfred makes a face when Braginski looks down, and the teacher seems to have eyes just about everywhere.

"Please do not do that, Alfred. I may have to put you in detention again."

Now that he's actually gotten into a detention with Braginski, the threat holds more value, so Alfred settles for rolling his eyes.

"Are you meeting up with him any time soon at least?" He asks Matthew, and Matthew shakes his head.

"He hasn't called to, um, make any plans yet."

"Did you call him?"

"No, since it's usually him that calls first."

"Well," Alfred scratches his chin thoughtfully. "I know how we can get around that."

"Really?" Matthew leans in slightly. "How?"

"Well..." Alfred leans in as well, staging a whisper. "_You_ could call _him_! And you know what would be even better? _You_ could ask him out before Roderich gets his capable fingers on him!"

And Matthew spends the rest of the period wondering why the hell he takes advice from Alfred, and why he tells Alfred anything in the first place.

* * *

While Matthew's brain is being eaten away in detention, Gilbert slides in to the passenger seat of Sadiq's car and gives Sadiq the standard quasi-handshake-hi five-hug greeting. He slings his backpack into the back seat, eliciting a loud "oof!" that has Gilbert jump slightly in his seat.

"S'up?"

"When the hell did you get here?" He demands, looking at Alfred who is sprawled across the back seat.

"I fully told you this morning I was going to Sadiq's." Alfred says, looking slightly offended. "And I also told you that I had something to tell you."

Oh. Right. He had.

They buckle up, and are pulling out of the school parking lot as Alfred begins to speak.

* * *

Matthew's sitting at a desk, copying lines onto a sheet of paper

_I must not make obscene gestures to my fellow classmates  
I must not make obscene gestures to my fellow classmates  
I must not make obscene gestures to my fellow classmates_

while Vargas talks to him and this one other kid that has been pulled from Vargas' grade ten Canadian history class for shooting paper air planes at Vargas to "represent fighter jets, yo, I swear."

Because he failed it last year by never showing up to class, and has to take it again this year, the other person is Alejandro. Vargas has placed him where he usually sits, which is at a pair of desks diagonally across from Matthew. While Vargas is not going off about the property he plans to buy near his inherited farm in Italy, Alejandro turns around to give Matthew a stare down.

Matthew finds it kind of creepy, and rather unsettling. So he focuses on getting all two hundred of the lines done so that he can book it out of here as fast as possible. Hopefully not at the same time as Alejandro, who by the looks of things, still has a bone to pick with him.

"Alejandro, turn around." Vargas commands. "You still have to finish up your lines and your homework."

Alejandro turns around, but not before shooting Matthew another dirty look with his hazel eyes.

Matthew practically scrawls the rest of his lines out, being the only person in the history of ever that has been scared shitless by the same person he has previously beaten up. Unfortunately, it doesn't matter, because when Matthew's at his locker a good half an hour later, someone thunks him on his back as he shoves books into his bag.

He turns around, coming face to face with the tall and terrifying teen, who's got a very cocky grin on.

"Oh, um...h-hey, Alejandro." Matthew stutters, closing his locker without turning his back to the other teen. "What's up?"

"Not much." Alejandro continues to grin. "How's Gilbert?"

"Um...great?" Matthew won't even blink in the presence of this guy, because he knows that if he agitates Alejandro, Alejandro and his posse that will appear out of no where will beat him up. "L-look, I better get going now..."

Matthew tries to side step Alejandro, but the other steps with him and blocks him.

"Not so tough now, are ya?" Alejandro sneers. "Without your buddies?"

"Er, um, I don't think- I, uh, don't think I was ever tough, eh?" Matthew tries to plead with Alejandro. "I need to-to go, can we talk about this some other time?"

Alejandro raises his eyebrow, because this is usually not the response he gets when he issues a challenge.

"Fag." He says, and Matthew nods.

"I know. C-Can I go now?"

Alejandro looks Matthew up and down with narrowed eyes. He seems to be contemplating something deeply, then steps back.

"Remember, Williams. I don't forget."

Matthew nods furiously, and by the time he has managed to scamper out of the building, lets out a deep breath that he wasn't aware of holding. Normally, he just tries to avoid types like Alejandro— drama queens disguised as thugs that will randomly antagonize you while you're trying to get your books out of the locker. Now, he'll just have to try harder.

* * *

"He's jealous?" Gilbert asks idly, as they're driving down the wide suburban streets. "But Roderich and I-"

"I know," Alfred interrupts. "Francis told me. But Matt doesn't know."

"Okay." Gilbert cranes his neck to look at Alfred. "Then tell him."

"No. Otherwise he'll not ask you out."

Gilbert furrows his brow in slight confusion. "The hell? Wouldn't it make him more confident?"

Alfred heaves a sigh, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "No, it would make him more _lazy_. He'd be back to flirting via asking you what's for homework."

"I don't think he's ever done that."

"Not my point."

"Well, how about I just ask him out?" Gilbert suggests. "I mean, he's a pretty decent and he's cute, so-"

"Nope." Alfred cuts him off again. "You still can't ask him out."

"But I thought you said the bet was off?"

"Yeah, but I was the one who called it off. In return, he would act as soon as possible. And tell me who likes me."

"Huh?" Gilbert scratches his head. "I don't get it."

"Just..." Alfred trails off. "Just, let's stick to the original plan. It's what's best. Because I thought it up."

And so it is decided that the original plan will be followed. Gilbert points out yet again that he's not going to "wait forever" and Alfred assures him that he won't need to because he's got the situation, so they should all just chill. While Gilbert is getting out of the car, Alfred pulls one last charming line and assures Gilbert that Gilbert is awesome enough to sweep Matthew of his feet in no time (at Matthew's request, of course). Sadiq, meanwhile, is on the phone with a friend of his that is talking to him about how he ran into a guy that he has beef with, and plans to get into a fight with him to get even very soon.

But Gilbert's an impatient sort of guy, and he's too kind to let Matthew waste all this potential(ly awesome) time he could be spending with Gilbert. So he's in the process of devising his own means of getting Matthew to give in and just ask him out already.

* * *

in my headcannon, AU or not, Gilbert is one of those people who will drive internet terms to the ground even when no one cares. Just sayin'

REVIEWS LIKE ALWAYS ARE REALLY APPRECIATED ASDFJKJ


	13. Chapter 13

**Relationship Status: It's Complicated**

Chapter Thirteen

* * *

But doing anything proves to be hard because school has started to move into that butt-munching phase where education starts encroach upon personal time, leaving many students with time to do nothing. Most of this is due to many students, like Matthew, having impeccable procastinating skills, but the blame is always put on homework.

Matthew continues not caring about Math, but all his other subjects pile up, and his free time has packed up and left the house. A lot of time is spent staring at the computer screen, trying to start one of multiple essays and projects. Due to this, the whole stop-being-a- pussy situation with Gilbert has been put on hold and for the past week or so, he has had to turn down many offers/commands to hang out. They do chill during lunch, but that's when they are surrounded by friends (Arthur, Lars, Antonio) or creeps (Alfred, occasionally Francis). While they act like complete idiots (mostly everyone but Matthew and Arthur) it isn't really the right atmosphere for one of them to ask the other out. Alfred tells him that he shouldn't be doing this weird thing called studying, because for all the "work" he's been doing, his marks have stayed the same— maybe even dropped here and there.

Matthew's standard response is to sigh and tell Alfred that he _knows_, but he needs to try, otherwise his mother is going to insist he goes to summer school. Rupert is also spending longer intervals of time at the house, and supports the hockey team Matthew hates, so Matthew has to fight the constant urge to burn the jersey Rupert always leaves lying around. Not only that, but hearing him cheer them on in the living room downstairs with his mother (that _traitor_) is one of the greatest factors in getting him distracted from his work.

Of course, around this time, mid-terms have also rolled around. Matthew's original idea is to hide his marks in his backpack and pretend that nothing special has happened, and nothing indicating his horrendous mark in Math (Braginski's fault) and English (Alfred's fault) is on his person. Later on he will throw it away like he has all these other years, and will just work on boosting up his mark to something acceptable by finals. He definitely does not want his weekend ruined, since the school has a nasty habit of sending mid-terms out right before weekends.

This time, the school decides it will punch students' hopes and dreams in the face with a new tactic that includes calling the households to let them know mid-terms have come home. Matthew doesn't get home in time to frantically pick up the phone then hang up on the automated message because Alfred, Gilbert, and Sadiq had decided to play a game of catch with Matthew's wallet after school. The three have taken to terrorizing Matthew as much as possible, and take immense enjoyment from seeing him suffer. Alfred points out that this is the best way for Matthew and Gilbert to get close, and Matthew points out that Alfred is an idiot with elementary school-like ideas.

Matthew eventually had to apologize to Mr. Braginski, who "accidentally" got hit with the wallet when it was Gilbert's turn to throw it. With what can be considered his most intimidating smile to date, Braginski had assured Matthew that it is all fine and dandy, and immediately put the other three boys in detention.

Because of that, Matthew has had to walk home alone, and he's still been keeping out a paranoid eye in case Alejandro jumps out of a bush or something. Ever since that day, Matthew has always had the vague feeling he's being stalked. Sadiq, who turns out to be friends with Alejandro, confirms that the other guy still has a grudge against Matthew. Matthew isn't sure for what, but he is not going to question the sixteen year-old's motives. He's just going to work on avoiding him, and hopes that Sadiq will stick true to his word that he will talk to Alejandro and tell him to lay off.

His original intentions were to get a ride home, since the forecast calls for showers. After the three other guys were sent to their doom (or Braginski's, knowing the three) in Braginski's class room, Matthew had called his mother, asking if she could give him a ride home. She has told him that he needs to get some excercise, and he should have carried an umbrella to school if he knew the forecast. This means that Rupert's probably over at his place, so Matthew decides to walk home. The long way. Well, at least it thankfully hasn't rained, even though the weather forecast has called for it.

He enters the house with all intentions of going straight upstairs, but is foiled by his mother. And Rupert, who's growing a beard for the season and looks like he should be on a Most Wanted poster. As he's kicking off his shoes, Matthew hears his mother call his name from the kitchen.

"Mattie? Hon, are you home?"

"Yes mom," Matthew replies, walking into the kitchen to get some food. He side steps Rupert, who's flaying a fish for dinner, and reaches for the box of maple cookies.

"Is that dinner?"

"Yeah." Rupert says, then casually brings something up that immediately makes Matthew freeze with his hand in the cardboard box of cookies. "We got a phone call from school."

"...Really?" The first thing Matthew thinks is that Braginski is a lying bastard and that he actually is in trouble for owning the wallet that smacked Braginski in the face.

"Yes, it said you got your midterm reports today."

The second thing Matthew thinks is whether or not his mom will have a problem if he says that yes, he has his midterm, and no, he'd rather not share it with her. Or maybe he can say the school has been lying, and the reports never really came out. Or he can do what he's doing now, which staring at his mom, who's making brownie mix, and avoiding the gaze of Rupert.

"So, wanna show us the report?"

While his mother is kind and sweet and all else that is good and motherly in this world, she is anal-retentive about his grades. She thinks that because he's not sixteen and with child, he has no excuses for poor grades. He supposes that even if that_ is_ ever the case for whatever reason, his mom will point out she pulled through and ended up just fine so he can too.

"Um...okay." Being put in the spot, Matthew can't think of a reasonable excuse to decline. "Yeah, um... Let me get it."

He retrieves it from the depths of his bag and can hear a death march playing in his head as he slowly hands it over to his mother. He stands, head hung and thumbs twiddling as he waits for his mother to say something.

"These aren't too great, eh?" Rupert comments.

"Really?" Matthew mutters. "I hadn't noticed. "

"Sorry?"

"Nothing."

Matthew glances at them, seeing his mother's brows furrow and Rupert's mouth pressed into a tight line. All said and done, Matthew thinks that Rupert has no say in this, so he really doesn't see why he will need to take anything the man says seriously.

"Yeah, um... I'm working on those." Matthew scratches the back of his head and waves his hand vaguely in the direction of the piece of paper his mother is holding.

His mom hums and says something about a tutor, and Rupert says something about how a grounding might be helpful. Matthew immediately snaps his head up and lets them know that it's not necessary. Rupert points out that it's his mother's choice, an Matthew says that yes he knows and that's why he's going to ignore what Rupert says. His mother asks him to respect Rupert, Matthew forgets for once to filter his words as they come out, and tells his mom he'll respect Rupert once he lasts more than four months. His mother is thrown into a shock.

"Matthew! that's just...!"

"Sorry, mom." he mumbles quickly. "Look, um, I promised someone I'd meet up with them soon because, uh..."

His mother looks unimpressed as Matthew starts stepping backwards. "Yeah, um, I asked a kid in Math to help tutor me today so I gotta, um..."

It's a weak excuse, but it's the only thing he can think of. He's never really walked out on his mom (come to think of it, he's never really walked out on _anyone_) but there's a first for everything and Matthew does it more out of fear than petulance.

His mother calls after him, and he swings his bag back over his shoulder and says he'll be home in time for dinner before he books it out of the house.

* * *

He's been walking around for a good half an hour, too pensive to be bored out of his mind. Within the first five minutes of departing home, he's thought about just turning around and going back, but he's decided that it will be counterproductive if he does so. He finally decides to call Alfred, seeking advice he probably will end up not taking.

_"Yo."_

Matthew can hear rap music blasting in the background, and assumes that he has just gotten out of detention and Sadiq is giving Alfred a ride home again.

"Hey, Al?" Matthew says once the music is turned down, presumably so Alfred can hear what Matthew is saying.

_"Oh, hey Matt! I was gonna call you just now. Listen, there's-"_

"I walked out on my mom." Matthew cuts off Alfred before the other can start his own rant on whatever.

There's silence from Alfred on the other end, then a _"What?"_

"She... I kinda like... Talked back to Rupert because he and mom were kinda upset over my report. And then I got my stuff and left."

_"Damn, son._" Alfred says sagely. _"I'm proud."_

"But what if she's mad?" Matthew asks earnestly, and being the great friend he is, Alfred gives a braying laugh.

_"Of course she's mad, stupid! But that's okay. Does this mean you're free tonight, then?"_

"Al, I don't think this is the time to make plans-"

_"Alright great, I'm gonna come pick you up. Where are you?"_

"Same street as that house you egged last Halloween, but that's beside the point. I need to think of a way to apologize to my mom and maybe Rupert, but I really don't wanna-"

_"Alright, stay put because I'm not gonna hunt you down. We'll be there in five."_

"Aye aye, captain. " Matthew resigns, admitting defeat. Not like Alfred won't listen to him, because he eventually will, but Alfred probably has some scheme cooking up that he's excited.

With that, Matthew hangs up and plonks down onto the curb.

* * *

A good fifteen minutes later, because Matthew's patient enough to wait that long for his friend, Sadiq's car drives up. Matthew cannot identify it by the license plate, and his memory of the car is limited to the fact that it is blue, but he hears the Turkish rap blaring and rattling. He stands up awkwardly, brushing off the front of his shirt as the car pulls up beside him, the driver ignoring the fact that he's facing the wrong side on the road.

The tinted window rolls down to reveal a grinning Alfred. Matthew can see Sadiq give a wave from the driver's seat and raises his hand in response as the hip hop music pours out the window.

"Get in." Alfred says in a commanding tone. "We have places to go."

Matthew obliges, and opens the back door to throw his bag in. He does it with slight unintentional force, just because, and hears an _oof!_

"Jesus, kid! Watch it!" Matthew frowns and dips his head down to see Gilbert shoving his bag off of him. He doesn't have enough time to form any sort of reaction in his mind, since Alfred seems to be getting impatient.

"Dude, any slower." Alfred prompts, and Matthew slides into the back seat. Matthew is about to say hello to the residents in the car in general, but Alfred starts talking.

"I told my mom I'm sleeping over at your place and you can tell yours your sleeping over at mine or something."

"Why would that be?"

"Party." Gilbert supplies simply, as Sadiq does what seems to be a very violent three-point-turn. "Vargas has decided he's done enough torturing for now, so he's going on a weekend-long father-daughter thing with Lovino and Feli's mom."

"Yeah?" Matthew says, vaguely remembering the faces. He reaches forward and taps Alfred on the shoulder. "But I don't think I can go, since I think my mom's mad at me."

"Your point?" Alfred shrugs. "Sadiq's gonna drop Gilbert off at his place, and then him and I are going to drop off his car and we're gonna come back and get a ride to the party from Ludwig."

"...Eh?"

Alfred repeats himself, this time making sure to go extra slow so that Matthew catches everything. He exaggerates, causing Matthew to roll his eyes at him.

"Where's the part where you drop me off at my place?"

"Uh...tomorrow morning?"

"_Alfred_."

"_Alright_ Cinderella, we'll get someone to take you home at eleven or something. You can go apologize to your mom when you get back and everything."

It seems like a horrible idea, and Matthew knows he should not be doing this because it will probably worsen his situation with his mother, especially since he's bad at giving her excuses for where he goes.

"And for now, you can come with me." Gilbert says, raising his hands behind his head. "Just drop your junk off at my place, and we'll head out."

"But-"

"Are we picking up Lars too?" Alfred asks, cutting Matthew off. "He said he needed a ride."

"Yep," Gilbert replies, and Matthew makes a futile attempt to speak again before he is interrupted. "Ludwig doesn't know it yet. If we're cramming four people into a seat for three, he'll flip out so we gotta do this on the down low."

"Nope." Sadiq says, and Matthew notices that they are going just a tad above speed limit. "Lars is getting a ride from that friend of yours. The guy who says he's got a big axe in his closet."

"Chris? The Danish kid? Does he even drive? I see him on his bike everywhere." As Gilbert continues speaking, Matthew finally realises that he probably won't be able to get a word in edgewise. This doesn't stop him from trying.

"Guys-"

"He doesn't, but his neighbour does, and Lars lives three minutes away from him."

"Hey, what-"

"Asshole." Gilbert mutters. "Lars owes me twenty bucks, of course he's not coming with us."

"_Guys_-"

"Whatever, get it from him at the party." Alfred waves him off. "Hey Matt, do you have your wallet?"

"Yeah, I do. Why?" Matthew's ears perk up at this opportunity to finally speak. "Oh, and as I was saying before-"

"Don't worry about it. Just keep it on you, alright?"

With that, Matthew finally admits solid defeat and flops back against the seat as Sadiq, Alfred, and Gilbert continue talking animatedly.

* * *

It doesn't take long to reach Gilbert's house, which is located in one of the nicer neighbourhoods in the area.

"When are we leaving?" Matthew asks, looking at his watch. It's a little past five according, and while the sky's a darkened grey, it still seems too light out for a party.

"Uh, six, I think." Sadiq replies, as they pull up the drive way of a rather large detached house. "And we'll take an hour to get there, especially if there's the rush hour."

"So far?" Matthew frowns, waiting for Gilbert to get out of the car. "Don't they go to our school though?"

"Yeah, but that's only because Vargas works here. So he drives them down, and it's cheaper than the other option. And maybe he's clingy, who the hell knows."

Matthew is about to ask exactly what is the other option is, but he finds himself being verbally herded out the car by Alfred. "Hey, let me at least get my bag!"

Once he's got his stuff and has been kicked out of the vehicle, Matthew casts Alfred a sour look. In response, Alfred rolls up his window, and mouths a "Go get 'em, tiger!"

Matthew narrows his eyes, and subtly pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his middle finger while looking towards Alfred.

* * *

An hour spent goes by much quicker than Matthew expects. Being too lazy to bring his own keys to school, Gilbert consistently alternates between rapping on his front door and ringing the door bell. This goes on for a good full two minutes before an extremely annoyed looking Ludwig opens the door. He sees Gilbert, and tries to close it again, but Gilbert shoves his foot in the doorway to stop him.

Matthew follows him into the house shortly after, giving Ludwig an awkward hello. He stands in the front landing, unsure of what to do next it. If he's close to a person, the first thing he does as he enters their house (after asking permission, because he's just that polite) is make a beeline for the fridge or television. He doesn't know if that's what he should do in this situation, so instead he opts for a "Can I borrow your phone? I need to call my mom."

He can use his own cellphone, but he knows that if his mom sees his name on the caller I.D, she'll start yelling at him from the get-go.

"Yeah, just go use the one in the kitchen." Gilbert gestures down the hall. "I'm gonna go up and change."

Matthew goes into the kitchen, where he runs into Ludwig again. Ludwig gives another polite hello, and asks Matthew of he would like anything to eat. Matthew nods, and he's tossed a granola bar. He thanks him once and asks again if he could please use the phone, and Ludwig nods in the direction of the handset.

As he starts dialling his house number Ludwig looks over Matthew once, and deems him polite and appropriate and unfortunate for having fallen for his brother (because Gilbert likes to share every little aspect of his life with Ludwig, whether he wants to listen or not).

At least he hopes that Matthew is as docile as he seems. He vaguely remembers gym class in the ninth grade, where they may or may not have been in the same class. He does remember the scrawny kid getting picked last for floor lacrosse teams because no one remembered him, then proceeding to prove to be a rather competent player. If this kid is secretly as horrible as his brother, it will not bode well for Ludwig.

Meanwhile, Matthew waits for his mom to pick up the phone with great trepidation. The first and second try don't work, but the third does.

_"Hello?"_

"Hey, um, Mom?" Matthew begins quietly. "It's me, Matt."

_"Mattie?"_

Matthew pauses for a second, anticipating reprimanding off the bat. On the inside, he heaves a sigh of relief because if she has just called him by a nickname, she's not that mad. When it doesn't come, he continues to speak.

"Hey mom, um...I'm just..." He wonders if he should ask if he's sleeping over at someone's house or tell that he's sleeping over at someone's house. He knows the first one will be more polite and will least likely get him in trouble. "I'm, um...sleeping over at someone's house tonight."

Silence.

"Is that okay?"

_"Oh Matthew, you _know_ I'm disappointed in you for walking out of the house..."_

Matthew bites his lip. Okay, _now _she's used his real name so maybe _now_ he'll be getting in trouble.

"I know mom, I'm sorry...I'm really really sorry...but, um, I need to..."

_"And do you really think that after all of that I would let you sleep over at a friend's place?"_

"But mom, this is for... ..." Gilbert walks into the kitchen at this moment, carrying an electric blue t-shirt in one hand and a lighter in another. Ludwig asks him to get something out of the fridge, and Gilbert ignores him in favour of fishing out ice cream from the freezer. "This is for a project...yeah, the due date is coming up soon."

There is more silence, then a sigh on the other end of the line.

_"Matt..."_

"I'm really sorry for this, Mom. And..." Matthew swallows. "Tell Rupert I'm sorry for being rude."

He thinks of something to maybe sweeten up to his mom, so that he's not in as much shit when he gets home. "It can...um, it can be like a date night for you and him, eh? I'll be out of your hair and stuff."

Not like Matthew ever being there has proved to be a problem before, but he likes to pretend it is a problem for the sake of his own sanity and for the sake of...well, being able to butter up his mom.

Another sigh, and a pause later, Matthew's mom finally replies.

_"When you get home, we're going to have to talk about your grades."_

"Okay."

_"And you're going to be grounded."_

"Okay." Matthew grimaces.

_"And you're going to have to apologize to Rupert in person."_

Well, shit. "...Okay."

With that, they say their goodbyes and hang up. Matthew frowns at the phone for a second before putting it back in its holder and turning to Gilbert, who's currently arguing with his brother why wearing his jeans halfway down his ass so his bright yellow boxers show is perfectly okay. He's also shirtless, much to his brother's grief.

"You're not attractive like that." Ludwig states.

"You're a bastard." Gilbert counters, tucking the lighter into the waistband of his boxers. "Just because you're ugly and I'm related, doesn't mean I have to be ugly too. See, even ask Matt. Aren't I attractive like this?"

Matthew, not really wanting to give his honest opinion, wordlessly makes his way to the sink to pour himself a glass of water.

"See." Ludwig points out. "Put your shirt on."

"Assholes. Both of you."

Twenty minutes later, a now shirted Gilbert finds another instigator in the form of his grandfather, who comes home to see one of his grandsons trying to attack the other for being too "unawesome", while that kid from the grocery store sits on the counter, looking kind of clueless as to whether or not he should intervene.

Ludwig escapes Gilbert's headlock, and sidesteps his grandfather after saying hello, leaving Gilbert to explain his clothes.

"We're going to a party." Gilbert says. "I want to look beautiful."

"Pull up your pants." Mr. Beilschmidt instructs, not impressed and frowning at Gilbert. "You look like you're about to go to the toilet."

Matthew tries to not choke as Gilbert protests.

"It looks _good_!" He argues, gesturing to his own body in general. "This is what looks awesome nowadays!"

Matthew excuses himself and steps out before it gets awkward, and decides to make a phone call to Alfred to let him know that he's told his mom he's sleeping over at someone's house, so he's clear for the night. Alfred asks if Matthew is _sleeping over_ where he thinks he's sleeping over, and Matthew tells Alfred he needs to stop being a dumb ass. Alfred says he's heard that the Cuban guy Carlos is going to act as a bouncer at the party, and that he hopes that Carlos mistakes Matthew for Alfred again. Matthew has nothing to say to that, so he just calls Alfred ugly before he hangs up.

When Matthew is back, Mr. Beilschmidt gives Gilbert's outfit one more disapproving glance before sighing and muttering about lost causes. Gilbert takes this as the okay to continue onwards, and Matthew finds himself being dragged downstairs to the front landing, where Ludwig is waiting.

Ludwig also gives Gilbert a once-over, and his expression matches their Grandfather's. He himself is wearing a sensible black shirt and blue jeans, and he shoots Matthew a look of what seems like utmost pity.

He mutters something about sensibility, before asking if they're ready to go. The two answer in the affirmative and Gilbert calls shot gun. Ludwig says too bad, because Sadiq has already called shotgun. Gilbert says it's too bad for Sadiq, and Ludwig points out that it's too bad for Gilbert, because Sadiq is already sitting in the car and rules are rules.

Matthew wonders when the hell they got there, and Ludwig explains that the two have actually been waiting around the block for the past fifteen minutes but hadn't come to the house until now due to the fact that they don't want to look too eager.

They get outside and get into the back of Ludwig's car, a rather nice looking black Audi that Matthew is sure isn't funded purely by ice cream truck money.

Much to Matthew's dismay, Alfred is sitting in the back seat with him and Gilbert, and due to his best friend's lack of brain-to-mouth filter, he will be on the edge the whole car ride there in fear of Alfred saying something utterly stupid. It's happened before, at school, where Matthew has to step on Alfred or subtly shove him to let him know that he's on the verge of blurting out something embarrassing.

A short discussion/argument follows afterwards, to determine whose music they will be blasting (at reasonable volumes, Ludwig insists) on the way there and eventually they just turn on the radio, much to Sadiq's protests.

"Do you have your license with you?" Alfred asks as they head off, and Matthew nods.

"Well, I have my learner's license." Matthew looks over at Alfred. "Why?"

Alfred raises his eyebrows and hums in a contemplative way, and casts a glance in Gilbert's direction. Gilbert shrugs. "That'll do."

"Do for what?" Matthew asks, watching as Alfred works on digging something out of his pocket. "What are you guys talking about?"

Alfred pulls out a small black sharpie, and Matthew eyes him with growing apprehension.

"What's that for?"

"C'mere." Alfred commands, beckoning with one hand, while he unlids the sharpie with his teeth.

"Why?"

"Just come here." Alfred makes a grab for Matthew, but Matthew scoots to his left, squishing up against Gilbert. "What are you doing with that sharpie? Where the hell-"

"Don't worry," Gilbert says in a voice that's not quite assuring. He wraps an arm around Matthew, and feigns an innocent expression. Matthew notes that the grip around him is growing tighter, as Alfred is leaning in towards him with the black marker. Matthew leans away from him, eyes widening. Alfred persists, and Matthew's personal bubble is invaded as he makes contact with Gilbert's lap and finds himself trapped.

"Stop terrorizing him." Ludwig commands from the driver's seat, and is ignored.

"We're just taking safety precautions, Matt!" Alfred explains, and Matthew pushes his face away.

"Are you going draw on me?"

"Nope!"

"Then wha-" Matthew tries to sit up, and is automatically pinned back down by his shoulders, courtsey of Gilbert. With a big shit-eating grin, Alfred leans in with the sharpie. In the next fifteen or so seconds, there is a small fight where Matthew tries to flail and snatch the sharpie out of Alfred's hands. He ends up accidentally hitting Gilbert in the face, and apologizes profusely. Alfred takes full advantage of this to manage to scrawl **DESIGNATED DRIVER** across Matthew's forehead in a fairly neat and readable manner.

"I hate you." Matthew grumbles, inspecting the black ink in the reflection of his phone. "I'm not the designated driver! I don't even have my full license-"

"And?" Alfred slumps back in his seat, looking extremely satisfied. "Don't drive like an idiot, and no one will catch you. If no one catches you, no one figures out you technically can't drive us. Problem solved."

Matthew sighs in exasperation, and doesn't know if he should shoot Alfred a scathing look or Gilbert a disapproving one for laughing. He opts to bury his face in his hands instead.

"You can't just pick me up off a street and say, 'Hey, we're going to a party and you can drive us back.' And you can't just...draw on me, eh?"

"I know we can't, but we just did." Gilbert points out, slapping Matthew on the back. "We're just being safe and presuming you have the most self-control out of all of us."

"Yeah. We're being _responsible_." Alfred quips, and Matthew flicks him on the side of his head. "Hey! You're the one who wants to be home early! Be happy we're considering ditching early!"

Matthew opens his mouth to protest, but unfortunately, it's true. So he shuts up for the rest of the ride, trying to keep his expression displeased even as Sadiq, Gilbert and Alfred break out into an impromptu rap-battle to the Taylor Swift song that's just come on the radio, much to Ludwig's grief.

* * *

and that, guys, is why I don't like to tell many people that I have my license. bleheheh

You know what's awkward? When you're at a friends house, and they get in a small argument with their parents and they just walk out. It's a very wtf do _I_ do situation

omg geoducks. whom do I love more. hetalia or himaruya?

reviews are really appreciated!


	14. Chapter 14

**Relationship Status: It's Complicated**

Chapter Fourteen

* * *

Even if he's somewhat of a wall flower, Matthew has been to his fair share of parties and has snuck into his fair share of clubs. When it comes to house parties, he knows that it's not quite like the movies, at least not the ones he goes to. Instead of large houses teeming with humans and excessively loud music, the parties he goes to consists of about 30 people jammed into someone's basement or backyard. The beer is usually cheap, everyone is usually baked, and Matthew's general destination somehow always ends up being the bath tub or a forgotten couch if he doesn't find someone to chill with for the night. Occasionally he passes out and/or Alfred forgets to retrieve him, leading to awkward mornings where he has to shuffle downstairs and out the door. What makes it worse is if the host doesn't _quite _remember exactly who he is, or seeing him at all the night before.

This time, he'd prefer to not end up in a bath tub. Unless he has company, specifically the guy who he's sitting beside in the car. No, not Alfred, who's busy making what he claims as his sexy face and— oh _god _he's just licked the window and winked at a car with two teenage girls, getting a honk in response and Matthew really wishes he had made better friendship choices back when he was younger.

Gilbert and Sadiq have been talking throughout the car ride, and Matthew has made the occasional comment but has mostly kept to himself. Part of it is because he has nothing to say, part of it is because he needs to monitor the innuendo and dirty jokes Alfred is throwing out, and part of it is because he's been busy plotting the entire car ride.

Well no. Plotting's a strong word for him.

Scheming.

Devising.

Planning.

Thinking?

Yes, thinking would be a better word. Because 'plotting' implies that Matthew's planning to do something.

Get something accomplished. Like maybe finally doing something with Gilbert.

And pretending that he's not got black marker scrawled across his face. Being ever helpful, Alfred had licked the pad of three fingers and offered to wipe away as much of the thing as he could, but only succeeded in smudging the **G** before Matthew smacked his hand away. Gilbert offered up his own spit, Ludwig told his brother to stop being disgusting, Matthew politely declined and Alfred bleated about how Matthew would just _love _it all over him and Matthew only managed to sputter out a half-assed insult before turning red and getting laughed at by everyone in the car except for Ludwig, who tells them to lay off. Because of that, Matthew has anointed Ludwig as his new best friend.

What Matthew's thinking about is:

a) How to not fuck up at the party

b) How to maybe hang out with Gilbert for a good duration of the party

c) How to drive, since he hasn't done it for a long time, but has been given the duty of driving everyone home. He's barely even paid attention to the way they came here, and is hoping that Alfred doesn't lose his phone during the party so he can GPS the route home.

Alfred bugs him once or twice for being too quiet, then gives a knowing grin when Matthew says he's just thinking. Matthew gives him his best scathing glare before going back to his thinking. The main thing is that he doesn't want to look like a total idiot at the party. He's successfully reigned in what Alfred calls the "creep factor" of his crush since he's started hanging out more with Gilbert, but he's not quite the smooth operator yet.

Eventually, they pull into a nice neighbourhood. A _really_ nice neighbourhood with _really_ big houses. Matthew's pretty sure half these houses classify as manors, and can't help but feel a small tinge of jealousy.

Ludwig pulls into the long, already crowded driveway of a giant house and Matthew's sure he's never been to a party like this. He's sure Alfred hasn't either, but alfred's doing a better job of not looking awestruck. Like something actually out of the movies, he can hear music thumping inside the house. There are people sitting on the front lawn, and people pouring in and out of the building.

They pull to a stop beside a Jeep without it's cover on, and Matthew wonders where exactly all these rich people come from.

Alfred leans forward and squints his eyes, watching the large oak doors open and close.

"Oh fuck me," he mutters and frowns. "Carlos _is_ there."

"I thought you already knew?" Matthew asks, raising his eyebrows. "You're the one who told me."

"I didn't expect him to actually be there. Who the hell gets a bouncer for a house party anyways?" Alfred swears before giving anyone a chance to reply. "How the fucknam I going to get in now?"

"Don't worry about it," Sadiq says. "If anything, I can get my lackey to sneak ya in. Adam's pro at that stuff."

"Or we can do something easy, like distract Carlos." Gilbert suggests. "I'll go with Matt and Sadiq first and while we talk to Carlos, you and Ludwig can ninja in."

Everyone thinks for a moment, then in unison, hum in approval. Sadiq, Gilbert, and Matthew cart themselves out of the car while Ludwig parks the car. Matthew is slightly nervous; not because it's Carlos, because Carlos is actually a really nice guy who will sometimes buy you things that you get I.D'd for, but because Carlos tends to mistake him for Alfred. Because Carlos is a combination of inhuman and inhumane, this leads to rather painful situations for Matthew, especially when the former decides to jump to conclusions rather early. It's bad enough having things written on his forehead in black permanent marker, and he's assuming a bruise here or there will not add to his looks.

Indeed, when they approach the currently open door, the first thing Matthew sees Carlos doing when they get in his line of vision, is narrow his eyes at Matthew. Gilbert and Sadiq have wide grins as they approach the bulky man, and Matthew is trying his best not to wear a terrified smile.

"Yo! What's up, bro?" Sadiq goes in for a high-five, and Carlos gives it willingly while still glaring at Matthew.

"Beilschmidt, Sadiq." Carlos turns his head towards Matthew. "Jones."

_Shit._ "Oh no, I'm not-"

"So how's things been?" Gilbert cuts him off, nudging Matthew with his elbow slightly to signal quiet. Out of his peripheral, Matthew sees Sadiq give a glance over his shoulder, and assumes that he's keeping an eye out for Ludwig and Alfred. And yet again, Matthew will have to put himself in great personal danger just to save Alfred's ass. But that's why they're best friends.

"Good, good. Getting good money for this job." Carlos shrugs, and Matthew finds those pointed looks rather nerve-wracking. "All I have to do is occasionally kick a scrawny kid out. No biggie."

"Yeah?" Sadiq says cheerfully. "I bet it's pretty easy."

"Yeah, I mean," Yes, really really nerve-wracking. "If I don't like someone, I can just toss them out."

As Carlos continues to burn a hole through Matthew's brain with his eyes, he absently indicates entry for two blonds, only shooting them a cursory look as they enter.

"Well, that's awesome and all. So we'll see you around then, okay?" Gilbert chirps abruptly, and starts pulling Matthew and Sadiq in.

"Wait a second." Carlos holds up an arm, stopping Matthew in his tracks. "I still don't like you, Jones."

"Uh-um...er, I'm M-Matthew." Matthew stutters, as the intimidating aura grows.

"You sure about that?" It's then he takes time to _actually _read what's written on Matthew's head. "Oh, okay. Yeah, you're not that Jones kid. Sorry about that, Matt."

"Did you seriously just notice that?" Gilbert asks incredulously. "Dude, it's in big black permanent marker all over his face."

Carlos shrugs, while Matthew breathes a "Thanks for the reminder."

"Got crazily made up little douche bags coming in all the time. I never really pay attention to it. Speaking of which," He blocks another guy trying to get in. "You on the guest list, pip-squeak?"

"Of course I am, jerk!" A familiar looking bushy-browed younger version of Arthur says. "Hey Gil-"

"And we're out. Nice talkin to ya, Carlos!" And before Peter Kirkland can turn to any of the three guys for help, Gilbert pushes them away from the door and into the house.

As expected, the inside of the house is teeming with people. Matthew's sure he's never seen so many people in one house before, and a majority of them seem to be people he doesn't really know. Usually, it's these kind of situations he's better in, because he can act like a totally different person and get away with it, but for obvious reasons, he'd rather not be ditched tonight. While he's woken up with penises drawn all over his face courtesy of Alfred and Lars, he's never actually consciously gone around with such facial decoration.

Revenge, if and when he gets it, will be _sweet_.

Sadiq and Gilbert seem to know some of these people, judging by the amount of props and high-fives they are getting as they proceed to move further into the big house. Somewhere along the way, they also manage to acquire a bottle of beer each even though Gilbert says it's too shitty for him to actually drink. Matthew sees another tall and stoic blond man with glasses just standing there, and wonders how much money the Vargas kids have if they can hire two people to watch over the night. And if they live in such a big house. How much does Vargas make from teaching anyways?

"Wanna find Alfred and Ludwig?" Sadiq asks, and Gilbert shakes his head.

"They're with Mario and Luigi over there," he says, gesturing with his free hand towards some people standing and talking in the large open-concept kitchen. Ludwig and Alfred are standing with the Vargas brothers, drinks already in hand and killing all hope that Matthew may not have to be the designated driver after all. "No, we're not going over there. Lovino's already trying to kill my brother with his death glare and I wouldn't want to get into the way."

"You're a great brother." They go into the living room, and Gilbert and Sadiq continue to scan the crowd. As they pass by someone who Matthew remembers as the Greek cashier at the convenience store, Sadiq casually plucks a bottle out of the person's hand and offers it to Matthew. "Beer?"

"He's the designated driver, dumbass." Gilbert reaches across Matthew to smack Sadiq's offering hand away. Sadiq shrugs and hands the bottle back to the guy, who gives a sleepy looking blink before he gives him the finger. "Yeah yeah, fuck you too, Heracles. Atleast I gave it back."

And in a dramatic whisper, he adds "Shoplift a candy bar from his hot aunt's stupid store _once _and he's pissed at you for life."

Matthew drifts along with them, unsure of what to do. He finds his mind wandering in ten different directions, wondering what he's going to do at the party and how he's going to conduct himself. He's so zoned out that he doesn't notice Gilbert whisper something to Sadiq, who nods and offfers some awkward sounding encouragement.

What does bring Matthew back to the current scene is the loud "Later!" Sadiq gives, and he is slapped on the back as the teen slips on his large white sunglasses and slinks away.

"Where's he going?" Matthew asks, and Gilbert shrugs.

"Probably off to find that lame Gupta kid or something. Them and some other people always like to gather around a hookah at parties because they think it's cool." with a slight bitterness to his tone, Gilbert adds "But I don't know if Gupta will be there since he's goin out with _Natalia_ now."

"Oh, well... I'm sorry?"

"For what?"

Matthew blinks a couple of times, till he realises he has no reason. Or something. "I don't really know."

"Do you wanna- oof!" Gilbert's about to say something, hopefully to kill the awkwardness, when someone comes up from behind him and thumps him on the back. "Who the hell was that?"

A brunette girl in a white t-shirt and jeans steps in front of them, stopping them, and a guy with a blond bob cut and a bright pink shirt joins her. Matthew remembers Feliks and Elizabeta, as one of the more popular people from Math.

"Well, if it isn't the incredible Hulk," Gilbert greets, holding his hand up for a high five. "And her fruity side-kick."

"I know you don't wash, Beilschmidt, I'm not touching you." But Elizabeta grins and gives him a high five anyways a Feliks mouths a "Fuck you" to Gilbert. "Who's your friend?"

"Matt." Matthew introduces himself, and Elizabeta frowns for a second. "Matthew Williams."

"Wait...you're in one of my classes, right?"

"Yeah, um...In Math. With Braginski." Matthew offers, giving an awkward smile and waiting for the two to remember. Especially Elizabeta, because he had hung out with Alfred and Kiku during lunch sometime just the other day and she had come over and talked to them. Well okay, only Kiku, and only because she asked him if he had the translated version of something (it's pronounced yow-wee or something, and no one has bothered to explain to Matthew and Alfred what that term means). But he _had_ introduced himself that time.

"Oh yeah aren't you like, the guy who sits beside Alfred or something?" Feliks asks and Matthew nods. "Oh wow, I totally didn't remember there."

"Eh...I'm used to it." Matthew shrugs. "Don't worry about it."

"Yeah..." Feliks reads the sign on Matthew's forehead. "Damn, dude. That like, totally sucks."

"So did you guys come together or something?" Elizabeta asks Gilbert, and Matthew swears by that slight tick of the eyebrow that she is giving a knowing look. Or maybe he's just paranoid about Alfred's secret-keeping abilities. Especially since he's still not told Alfred who likes him. He can pretty much imagine Alfred telling quite a few people, just to "speed things up bro, trust me."

"Mhm. You jealous?" Gilbert slips an arm around Matthew's shoulders, licks his lips and winks at Elizabeta.

"Of everyone that doesn't know you." She retorts, exaggerating a disgusted face.

"She's jealous," Gilbert says in a stage whisper to Matthew. "She's always been jealous, ever since I rejected her."

"Yeah, it took me so long. I was the ripe old age of seven by the time I got over you." Elizabeta rolls her eyes. "I feel sorry for Matt."

"That he's going to overload on my awesomeness, yeah?"

"That's totally what it is." Feliks rolls his eyes. "So did you guy like, come with anyone else?"

"Yep. Us and my brother. And Alfred. And Sadiq." Elizabeta perks up at the last name a bit.

"Really? Sadiq? Is he near by? Where is he?"

"Woah, what's with all the excitement?" Gilbert raises his hand, slowing down Elizabeta. "Aren't you supposed to be all upset that your boyfriend's not here or something? Aren't you supposed to go, '_Oh Roddy, where are you, I need you and your magical pianist fingers-_"

Elizabeta gives a light punch to Gilbert's stomach before he can continue.

"He couldn't come to the party because he's got a recital tomorrow, idiot."

"Yeah, and? It doesn't give you a reason to hit on Sadiq."

"I'm not hitting on him, jerk. Just because you have no friends doesn't mean I can't either."

They continue berating each other, but Matthew's brain has again started to drift away. Maybe it's because he's not been getting enough sleep nowadays, and his fat cat jumped on his head from on top of his closet shelf this morning, but he can't help but not pay attention. He remembers Alfred mentioning that maybe Roderich is dealing with _that girl _from Math, and not Gilbert. It gives him a tiny sliver of hope that Roderich and Gilbert aren't somewhat involved with each other.

Actually, it just lets him know that he's been reading too deep into nothing, and it's his own fault for not doing anything even after e_ight fucking months_, but he'd rather ignore that.

Someone nudges him, and he turns his head to see Lars.

"Oh, hey." He says, while the three he's standing with continue their chatter. "What's up?"

"Not much." Lars shrugs. "Designated driver? Sucks, bro."

"I know." Matthew frowns. "Alfred did that to me."

"Ah, explains. Speaking of, where is...?"

"Um, in the kitchen last time I checked. He's probably still there, pigging out or something."

"Alright..." Lars casts a glance towards Gilbert, who's in a headlock courtesy of Elizabeta until he says 'uncle' or spills his drink. "Are you and him here together?"

"Appears so." Matthew gives Lars a slightly confused look, then goes "Oh."

Turning slightly pink, he gives a half-shrug. "Er...um, maybe by...um, maybe by the end of...tonight. I don't know."

The blank expression Lars has been holding slowly curls up into a slight leer. "I can help if you want."

"No!" Matthew rejects the offer a little too instantly and a little too loudly. "I mean, um...you should go focus on your own thing, eh?"

Lars looks at him funnily, then nods.

"Okay. I will. And I bet I'll get with them faster than you will."

"Oh no. I know where this is going. I have no money, man. No. No bet."

Lars raises a hand to shut Matthew up.

"Fine. You win, I'll give you twenty bucks. I win, you owe me your dignity."

Matthew opens his mouth to protest, but remembers how he'll probably be grounded when he gets home. Meaning no lunch money, and he's running low on his debit card. He wonders if it's worth potentially embarrassing himself to an undoubtedly great extent.

"Deal."

They shake hands, and as Lars walks away with a somewhat smug grin on his face because Matthew is yet to realize Lars' unfair advantage.

Other than the fact that Lars is much better at these things than he is.

But Matthew does realize something.

How does Lars know about him and Gilbert?

* * *

Somewhere in the house, Alfred has stolen the only bottle of alcohol that Peter has managed to knick, and is holding it above the shorter boy's head while his older brother looks on in amusement.

"Give it back, you fat jerk!" Peter says, trying to tip over the chair Alfred's standing on. He gets his hands kicked in return, and gives the finger to Alfred.

"Then come get it!" Alfred taunts, and freezes. Suddenly, a deep feeling of dread washes over him, as if he's going to be in some big trouble.

But it leaves as soon as it comes, and he tosses the bottle of Woody's towards Arthur with great glee.

Meanwhile, Sadiq is busy convincing Alejandro to just "chill bro, stop acting like you're on your period" because "Matt and Gilbert are really cool guys" and "if you beat up Matt, I won't have anyone to cheat off of in History".

* * *

Eventually, Gilbert surrenders to Elizabeta, and calls Matthew a traitor when he fails to stifle small laughter at the perfect noogie that Elizabeta executes.

Elizabeta and Feliks go off in a hunt for Sadiq, and a grumpy and slightly soaked Peter who has appeared out of nowhere bluntly informs them that "the stupid fatass and my stupid brother" are in the basement and have called for Matthew and Gilbert.

"Fuck them, we have cooler things to do." Gilbert responds eloquently, and before either Matthew or Peter can ask what exactly said cool things are, Matthew finds himself being dragged (yet again) across the large house to the backyard door.

In the amount of time he's been in here, Matthew's used to seeing an excess amount of people. In addition to the big-ass house with the big-ass driveway, this big-ass house also has a big-ass backyard with a pool in the back. So far, Matthew has deduced that no History teacher has this much money, so he is either in the Mafia, or has a daughter who is rich (from working in the Mafia). There's a large tarp spread over the pool that's got big black letters telling everyone to please stay out of the pool, albeit in less kinder words.

It's dark out, but the light from the house pours into the backyard, illuminating the area. There's a wooden deck attached to the house, that leads into the large backyard where it's not crowded, but there's still a decent amount of people.

Slowly, Matthew's slipping into that slight adrenaline boost that he gets when he's somewhere large and exciting. He's gradually shifting from being awkward to laughing to everything Gilbert says, because he's _that fucking funny_, and he's even gone as far as to joke to Gilbert that it's a good thing he's not gotten drunk yet otherwise he would be feeling up his party buddy. What's even better for Matthew is that Gilbert jokes back saying that maybe they _should_ get Matthew piss-drunk after all.

Moments like these are the types that get Alfred calling Matthew a light-weight who doesn't even need alcohol to start acting socially unacceptable at parties (when people notice). Though Matthew thinks that Alfred really has no say in it, because both boys have identical alcohol tolerances; Matthew probably even has a slightly higher one.

After saying hi to countless more people, (all bastards that taunt Matthew with alcohol before going "Oh wait, _designated driver_"), Gilbert nudges Matthew's side.

"Yo, you see that guy over there?" Gilbert points to a guy standing by a fold-up table a couple of feet away from the deck. Matthew squints, and sees a short kid with curly blond hair, who looks rather nervous standing alone. "He's guarding the drinks. Go distract him."

"Why?"

"Because I said so." Gilbert answers, twisting his head in all directions to get a good look of who's watching. "Just do it. Is your phone on?"

"Yeah, but what are we doing-"

"Alright awesome." Gilbert cuts him off, then gives him a small push. "Go, before someone else comes."

Spontaneity is apparently key, and Matthew is currently game, so he walks up to the kid at the table.

"Hey...um, nice party." He offers, and there's silence. He's never seen him at school before, and never has he seen someone as paralleled to him in both awkwardness and probably shyness.

"O-oh, me?" The shorter blond stutters. "Oh no, this isn't my party. It's for Lovino and Feliciano Vargas and I'm just guarding the drinks table because last week I accidentally broke one of their car windows while playing baseball and I'm actually just going home at one because everyone here's kinda weird and creepy and odd and I'm rambling, sorry."

Matthew blinks, and sees Gilbert creep behind the blond's back and duck under the table.

"Oh, I see." He gives a good-natured smile, hopefully one that conveys to the kid that he's probably just as bad sometimes.

"Y-yeah. Uhm...My name's Raivis."

"Matt-" Matthew is about to introduce himself, until he hears a voice call out "Yo, Raivis!". The familiarity of this voice makes him freeze, then start to cringe. There's a soft thud as Gilbert shoots up at the voice, forgetting he's under a table and consequently hitting it on his way up. By what Matthew can make out by Gilbert's face, the person coming up from behind is exactly who he thinks he is. Gilbert ducks below the table again, and Matthew is about to do something stupid like ask him to get out from there, but he's cut short by a "Williams?"

God _dammit_, of all the people to remember his name.


	15. Chapter 15

writing this story occasionally reminds me of poor judgement calls and decisions my friends and I make

_I know that we are young, and I know that you may love me, but I just can't be like this with you any more..._

* * *

**Relationship Status: It's Complicated**

Chapter Fifteen

* * *

"Alejandro?"

Matthew sees Raivis squint to see the visitor, and Matthew hopes that Raivis can pick up on Matthew's slightly terrified expression, and maybe offer some route of escape instead of going "Oh, is that you Matt?" to Matthew and dooming him to an encounter with Alejandro.

"Maybe we should go somewhere-" Another voice tries, but Alejandro cuts in with a "Hey, you!"

Matthew desperately hopes that Gilbert will come out from under the table, or that Alfred and his obnoxiousness will show up, or that the other voice is Sadiq's.

Slowly, Matthew turns his neck to look over his shoulder. Well, at least he called the last one.

"Hey Sadiq...and, um, Alejandro." He greets weakly. "How's it going?"

Alejandro, not one to beat around the bush, glares at Matthew straight off the bat. Sadiq is standing behind him, making slicing motions with his hand to his neck to let Matthew know that he is in a lot of potential shit. Or something like that.

Alejandro seems to want to do nothing but cast a killer look towards Matthew, so Matthew side steps Raivis while keeping a cautionary eye on Alejandro. He doesn't want to start a fight because he's sure that underneath all that personal vendetta for Gilbert that has somewhat transferred to Matthew, Alejandro is actually a really nice person. He has even heard stories on how Alejandro babysits for money, and honestly someone like that isn't someone he should be getting into a fight with—

"I believe we have some unfinished business."

That works too.

"T-that's just too bad, eh?" Matthew tries to casually say without giving away that he is slightly intimidated by the tall and lanky kid. "Well unfortunately, I have some other un-unfinished business so let me just go take care of that first, please?"

Alejandro continues to glare, Matthew continues to babble.

"I mean, it's not like we even had a legit reason to fight, r-right? I mean why did we even fight in the first place? I know you used to bully me but I th-thought we put that behind us so I don't think we should fight, that wouldn't be very smart."

Matthew is ten seconds from breaking out into a run back into the house, but he jumps slightly as he feels a strong hand hit his back. Gilbert has decided to emerge from his haven underneath the table, and Matthew thinks that all chances of escaping without the fight getting physical have been annihilated.

"Alejandro!" He exclaims with an painfully cheerful tone. "It's great to see you."

"I'm just going to dip now-" Matthew starts and as soon as he does so much as slightly shift his body, Alejandro takes a step forward and Gilbert tightens his grip on his back.

Personally, Matthew thinks that since they've said hello and everything, they should just leave now so that nothing bad like a fight or anything happens. Unfortunately, his opinion seems to be the less popular one because Gilbert and Alejandro are advancing towards each other. Matthew side steps out of the way because one fight is enough for the school year for him, and as sure as he is he can take on Alejandro, it's not on his list of priorities.

"Yo, let it go." Sadiq says, placing a hand on Alejandro's shoulder. Alejandro spits to the side.

"I'm not soft, dude."

Aside from being physically assaulted, the other thing Matthew doesn't like about fights not related to sports is the absolutely amazing, straight from the movies/internet comebacks that are commonly exchanged before the people actually get around to fighting. This one time in freshman year, Alfred had gotten into a fight with a tall Swedish senior and had spent a good portion of it running off lines from his favourite rap songs, while Matthew stood with his head in his hands. The remainder of the time consisted of Alfred screaming uncle as the burly blond had pinned to the wall by the collar of his shirt.

Alfred likes to pretend that he had never gotten into a fight and lost with someone who was known as the school's "gentle giant", even though it was his fault for imitating Berwald while he thought he wasn't looking. But Matthew's vaguely reminded of that time as Alejandro and Gilbert throw insults left and right.

Last time, speaking didn't do him any good so he's decided to shut up and start moving towards Sadiq, who is trying to look away.

"Are you actually going to fight this time?" Alejandro sneers. "Or get one of your bitches to do the work again?"

Matthew's pretty sure he's one of those "bitches" that Alejandro is referring to, but decides not to comment. The two are extremely close now, and Alejandro seems to have realize this. He crinkles his nose, and tilts his head back, in an attempt to look like the more powerful one.

"Why do they fight?" He whispers to Sadiq, who shrugs.

"No clue. To tell ya the truth, it's embarrassing." Sadiq lowers his voice. "They both like to fight, and they both like to not use common sense."

"Oh." Matthew thinks for a moment. "Hey, aren't you friends with them both? Aren't they both going to expect you to back them up?"

"Don't give a shit." Sadiq gestures with a hand towards the two. "See, they're not even fighting yet."

Indeed, they're still throwing insults towards each other, and more people seem to have noticed. A couple of people have gathered, wondering if this is worth any interest or not. Matthew hopes that it won't go beyond this and—

And there goes Alejandro, serving the first actual physical contact of the evening. Gilbert's gotten too close for his liking, so he thumps him in the chest rather hard, causing him to stumble backwards slightly. The crowd goes ooh, and Sadiq continues to look unimpressed. Matthew assumes that this is because in comparison, Sadiq's got more suburban gangster quality than Alejandro.

"Wow." Gilbert says, pretending to be hurt. "Don't go too hard there, buddy."

"Fuck you," Alejandro replies, and takes a swipe at Gilbert. Gilbert manages to duck and dodge it, then in a sudden move that Matthew hasn't been expecting, does a weird manoeuvre where he straight on head-butts Alejandro. It sends the other boy crumpling to the ground, wondering what the hell has just happened, as Gilbert steps over him.

"Problem solved-" He begins, but Alejandro rolls over onto his knees. "Oh shit. Guess not."

"Hey Sadiq!" He chirps as he passes Matthew and Sadiq, tugging up his baggy pants slightly so it's easier to quicken his pace. Sadiq nudges Matthew, letting him know that he should follow Gilbert before Alejandro gets up and decides to redirect his anger onto Matthew (again), so Matthew heads off after the other teen.

* * *

"What was that about?" Matthew huffs, as he finally manages to catch up with Gilbert. He's had to weave through people, running into one or two and apologizing profusely to one person whose drink he's knocked over.

"Oh hey, you followed me." Gilbert looks over his shoulder as he snakes into the kitchen and grins at Matthew. "Awesome."

There, they run into Kiku, who Gilbert hi-fives before wheedling out a bag of chips from him.

"You're scrawny now," Gilbert warns as the shorter boy hands over the chips before leaving "But when you grow up, your combined ass and belly weight will break your back."

Of course, Gilbert assures the retreating boy, he himself won't experience that because he's too awesome.

Once Gilbert has acquired his food and there seems to be no other distractions amongst the people milling about, Matthew decides that now would be a good time to ask a question.

"How come you ran away?" He asks, then immediately tries to reword it. "I mean like, not ran away like a coward, but I mean like last time you guys just beat each other up and this time you just seemed to want to get out of there as soon as possible, not like a coward or anything I mean like you just wanted to get out of there."

Gilbert blinks, Matthew opens his mouth to repeat, Gilbert holds his unoccupied hand up to stop him.

"No I heard that, it just needed to sink in 'cause you were talking so fucking fast. Chips?"

"No tha- actually yeah, sure. But anyways, I thought you wanted to beat the shit out of Alejandro?" Matthew asks as digs his hand into the packet.

"All in due time," Gilbert assures, peering into the bag to see what's left. "I wouldn't want to risk a black eye or a couple of scratches."

"Why?" Matthew jokes. "Trying to impress someone?"

Gilbert cackles at that, and nothing more. Matthew continues to be blissfully unaware of any underlying meaning.

"You wanna head to the basement?" Gilbert asks, looking around the kitchen idly. "They usually have some sort of dance thing going on there. It's disgusting but fun."

"Disgusting but fun...?"

"Dude, it's like twenty sweaty people grinding while a bunch of kids make out on the sofa. It smells like B.O, beer and weed and everyone's too happy to notice."

"Oh..." Matthew wrinkles his nose slightly "I don't dance, though."

"Then we can make out on the couch. Or watch like creepers." Gilbert adds quickly, taking small enjoyment out of seeing Matthew faintly blush.

As a blessed distraction, Matthew's phone vibrates from his front right pocket.

_I won. you owe me your dignity_

Obviously, Matthew reasons, the only reason Lars has won is because his object of interest is easily impressed. Deleting the message so that he can tell Lars he never got it therefore shouldn't be held to anything, Matthew turns back to Gilbert and gives him a thumbs up.

"Downstairs? Awesome."

* * *

_Elsewhere..._

"You suck." Alejandro complains as they sit on two lawn chairs in the backyard, and Sadiq continues to not care. "Why do you tell everyone you're hard when you don't even have your boy's back?"

"Because I pick my fights wisely." Sadiq replies simply, watching a group of girls standing and talking with fascination. "And you guys are equal in strength, so I didn't see the need to butt in."

Alejandro is about to thank him, then frowns. He can't tell whether he's actually been complimented or settles for leaning back in his chair.

"I hate you, bro."

"Good for you. Maybe you can redirect your anger to something that's not Gilbert and stop picking a fight every time you make eye contact."

"And your fucking therapy. I hate that too."

* * *

"I don't think I've seen so many people crammed in one house before," Matthew comments, as Gilbert leads the way down the stairs. "Don't they get paranoid about people destroying stuff?"

"They're good at throwing big house parties." Gilbert shrugs. "And Lovino's really good at hunting down and brutally beating anyone who breaks or steals things, so they doesn't have to worry about house damage."

Matthew blinks, and Gilbert gives a "Just kidding!" before stepping in front of him.

"Basement's sound proofed too," He says, anticipating the next question. "So they normally don't get noise complaints either."

"Really? I never knew Vargas got so much money just from teaching."

"He doesn't, he's got some business on the side or some investments or some shit that he told my old man that I really don't care about. Oh good, it doesn't smell."

The stairs lead into an open, living space complete with a tiny bar. Off to the right is a hall, where there appears to be rooms with big yellow **DO NOT CROSS **tape across them. Music is coming from _somewhere_ as a group of people dance in the centre of the light has been dimmed, to create a mock-club atmosphere, and Matthew has to admit it is one of the better ones he's seen. People are sitting against the wall or on various pieces of furniture, talking animatedly amongst themselves, with the exception of Eduard from History who seems to be talking loudly and gesturing into the laptop as he sits by the wall outlet.

Gilbert pulls Matthew over to a four-seater, where two people are sitting with their faces extremely close together. Matthew wagers a guess as to who they are, and unfortunately wins because he recognizes the scar on of the person's eyes. Gilbert bends down till he is at eye level with the two, and grins.

"Mind if I join?'

The two fly apart out of surprise, and Matthew confirms that it is indeed Lars and Alfred within close proximity of each other.

"What a pleasant surprise." Gilbert snickers. "Out of all the people you bend for, Lars. Out of all the people."

Since it is a public place, Gilbert doesn't question any further, but does tell that one of the two will have to tell him details later on.

Lars pushes away Gilbert and his obnoxious smile, only to have him try and get closer. Meanwhile, Alfred raises a questioning brow to Matthew, and Matthew purses his lips. Alfred gives him a disappointed look, and shakes his head. Matthew himself is disappointed because:

a) Everyone's got better game than him (though, he's known this from before)

b) He has nothing to bribe Alfred with now that Alfred knows who likes him, and seems to have already done something

c) He's lost the bet with Lars. Speaking of...

"I'm feeling kind today, Matt. You can give me money instead." Lars says, and Alfred and Gilbert simultaneously go "Huh?"

"How much?" Matthew asks, trying to silently wave off the questioning glances. "I don't have much cash with me, and I don't think I can borrow any from my mom for a long time."

"Fifty?" Lars offers, and Matthew's eyes bulge out of his head.

"Dude."

"Fine, forty. Thirty?"

"_Dude_."

"Twenty-five or your dignity. We _did _have an agreement."

Matthew wants to bargain, but starts weighing the options in his head. Either he could just give up and do whatever Lars had in store, or he could agree with the money and not pay him back for a while. Lars would eventually forget about it, Matthew would be able to keep his money.

"Fine. Twenty-five."

"Hey, speaking of money," Gilbert butts in. "Lars, you owe me twenty bucks. Don't deny it, you gave me an I.O.U on a page from your math test."

Lars pulls a poker face, and replies with a "I don't know what you're talking about."

"What the hell do you mean you don't know what I'm talking about?" Gilbert demands. "Quit being an asshole, pay up."

"Where would I get twenty bucks from anyways?" Lars grumbles. "If I had twenty bucks, I wouldn't have borrowed money from you."

"What the fuck? That doesn't even make sense." Gilbert flicks Lars on his forehead, getting shoved away.

"Okay, okay fine." Lars swats Gilbert's hand away again as it goes in for the second attack. "I don't have money, but I can give you something else."

A slow smile forms across Lars' face as he digs into the deep pockets of his jeans, looking for something, and Gilbert rolls his eyes.

"Just because you're freshly gay doesn't mean you can start repaying me in sexual favours." Gilbert sticks his hand out in front of Lars' face. "Money, or something of equal worth."

"You're disgusting." Lars says, as he finally fishes out something. He gives a quick glance around, to see if anyone's watching, then quickly presses a small plastic bag into Gilbert's palm. Gilbert gives it a brief glance, before shoving it into his own pocket.

"Drugs are bad for you." Gilbert says sagely, shaking his head. Lars shrugs, then Alfred shoos the two away.

"What if we don't want to leave? Right Matt?"

Matthew, who has been busy watching with faint amusement as Eduard is making "seductive" faces into the computer screen, snaps back to attention. "Sorry, what?"

"Oh, they asked if you wanted a seat." Gilbert says, then nudges Matthew onto the sofa. "They want to chill with us for the rest of the night."

"Suit yourself." Lars says coolly, and whispers something into Alfred's ear. In turn, Alfred grins and nods and tilts his head to the side to meet Lars' halfway in a lazy kiss.

Matthew awkwardly looks away, because to him it just serves as a reminder that he's lost a bet. And he's lost his source of bribery/blackmail. And they're probably doing it to mock the fact that he and Gilbert haven't done anything.

"Excuse you, we were talking to you." Gilbert says, but Lars raises up his middle finger in response. "Hey, pot head, 'you' means you and burger boy."

The two continue to ignore him, so Gilbert decides to do what he thinks will redirect the attention back on him, and seats himself on the sofa.

Well, technically on Matthew's lap. But Matthew's on the sofa, so it counts.

Matthew loops his arms around Gilbert's waist to steady him as he tries to lean in, since he's not drunk but has a bit of a buzz going on. Matthew is trying not to turn red as Gilbert starts to _insist_ that they try to outdo Lars and Alfred. Matthew actually thinks it's an exceptional idea, but is not courageous enough so when Gilbert dives with puckered lips, he turns his cheek only to have it completely assaulted with pecks. His face feels like it's on fire, and he hopes to god that Gilbert doesn't notice that he is (not) flipping shit or anything like that, oh no.

"Go gay somewhere else." Alfred pouts, and Gilbert makes a face and mimics him in a high pitched voice.

"I'll gay wherever I want to gay, Jones." Gilbert states, and leans in, this time in earnest towards Matthew (who is definitely not completely flipping shit) but still grinning at Alfred. "With whoever I— holy hell, is that Ludwig?"

Four pairs of eyes immediately fall in the direction that Gilbert has exclaimed in. There, looking unsure as to whether he should be uncomfortable or not, Ludwig is sandwiched between two girls. One is Elizabeta from what Matthew can tell, and the other is a dark haired chick that Matthew vaguely remembers having a name that ends with a "Chelle". Elizabeta and —Chelle are dancing away, and even Ludwig has his hands on —Chelle's hips, trying not to get a face full of her hair as Elizabeta sways behind him. Meanwhile, Feliciano is laughing and taking pictures, presumably zooming in on Ludwig's extreme blush. Alfred whistles, while Gilbert gives an approving nod.

"Can't say I'm not a bit jealous." Lars comments, and the other three hum in agreement."Damn."

"I do believe that they are finally working on getting my little brother out of his shell. If you want, that can be us." Gilbert suggests, and Alfred makes a retching sound.

"Ew, I don't want you grinding up on me." Alfred says, and Gilbert huffs as Lars also shakes his head.

"Well fuck you. And you too Lars, you have shitty taste." Lars gives him a sour look, but Gilbert plods on. "I'm going to go with someone who _appreciates_ it."

With that, Matthew feels a great weight being relieved off his lap, an arm pulling his up to a feet, and a person dragging him to the dance floor.

"Wait!" He tries to protest. "I told you, I c-can't dance!"

It's a small lie, because he can, but it's either dancing to novelty songs or dirty dancing. None of which he's courageous enough to pull out right now.

"It's all good!" Gilbert replies over the music. There aren't way too many people there, but the arrangement of the room makes it seem packed. Matthew curses lightly under his breath as he's pulled in between people. It's hot, they're sweaty, and he hears someone ask their dance partner if those two dudes actually going to get it on in the middle of the floor.

Apparently they are, because he's been dragged to the very core of the mass of people, and is pressed right up against the other's body. He's not moving yet, just standing, making things slightly awkward for both of them.

"You have to dance," Gilbert raises his voice to be heard. "Are you shy or something?"

"Very, actually." Matthew replies, earning laughter from Gilbert.

"Dude, just pretend I'm a hot chick or something then! No one will see us anyways!

"What the—? Oh, no I didn't mean it like that!" Matthew splutters quickly, thinking he has somewhat offended Gilbert. "I want to dance with you man, I really do!"

After that admission, Matthew immediately clamps his mouth shut and manages to step back and put some distance between him and Gilbert.

_why do I have to be so awkward_

_why do I have to be so awkward_

_why do I have to be so awkward_

"...What?" Gilbert says even louder this time, his voice sounding slightly forced. "Sorry, I didn't hear you!"

Matthew doesn't know whether Gilbert is faking it or not, but he substitutes the previous statement anyways.

"I said, I suck at dancing!" Gilbert seems to hear Matthew this time, and grins widely.

"Whatever!" Gilbert's started to move his body, and Matthew is still stiff and increasingly red. "Dude, come on! It's a house party, not a music video."

Matthew shakes his head vigorously. Gilbert grabs him by the elbow, trying to get at least something to move. His hand slips down to grip Matthew's and tries to swing him.

"No seriously Gilbert, I suck!" Matthew tries to protest and pull away, but Gilbert will have none of that.

"You gotta dance," he warns. "Or I'm gonna have to make you dance in front of all these people. I'm rather good at starting dance circles."

Matthew gives a quick glance around to the crowd, and sees people he knows from school. Arthur is dancing with Lars' sister, and even Gupta and Natalia are interacting on some sort of physical level. Peter is there too within the crowd, trying to convince —Chelle to leave Ludwig and dance with him instead. He decides that having a crowd pay attention to him is worse than having just one person watching, even if he is severely attracted to that one person.

Slowly, he nods, knowing he's dooming himself to being bright red for the next few songs.

"Okay, fine." He mumbles, and Gilbert seems to have no trouble hearing that.

* * *

A few minutes later, another interruption comes in the form of Sadiq Adnan. Lars and Alfred haven't moved, and when they aren't occasionally eating face, they're sitting side by side, watching the crowd and making fun of some people (specifically what they can see of Matthew and Gilbert), as if nothing has happened.

Sadiq catches them at a time that they've decided to latch on to each other again, and because of his sudden influx of friends that are gay, he sits beside Alfred, taps him on his shoulder to let him know he's there, and waits politely till they are done.

"Yo!" Alfred greets as soon as they break apart. "What's up?"

Lars leans forward a bit and turns his head to see who's joined them, and frowns slightly.

"Sadiq."

"Lars." Sadiq says with equal curt, then his brows furrow in confusion. "Wait, were you the one just making out with Alfred? No homo, I wasn't watching or anything but I'm just asking."

Lars nods, and Sadiq lets out a "Tch" noise. Lars casts him a sour look, and Sadiq frowns and looks away.

"Guys?" Alfred asks, looking at the two of them. "Is there some underlying rivalry that I'm missing out on here?"

"Our moms competed in a garden show once, and they both had tulips." Lars easily supplies.

"Really? Who won?"

"We'd rather not talk about that." Sadiq says quickly, and Lars snickers. "Don't laugh, bitch, you didn't win either."

"Yeah, but at least I didn't_ cry_."

"At least _I _didn't leave the centre in a rage and hide out in a skate park for three hours."

They glare at each other, and Alfred clears his throat, choosing for once to not comment no matter how ludicrous the situation sounds. It's clearly something that agitates them both, and he does not want to risk losing a limb for accidentally laughing out at the thing.

"So..." Alfred starts instead. "Hey, I heard about the scuffle that Alejandro and Gilbert almost got into."

"Yeah, Alejandro and Gilbert always have beef over somethin' or another." Sadiq shrugs. "Whatever. I brought him down here so he could calm his balls."

"Did you?" Alfred asks a little loudly, and Lars snorts.

"Go figures. Good job, Sadiq."

"What? Why?"

Lars raises a finger to the dancing crowd, which has dispersed slightly. Gilbert's blue shirt is visible, and it looks like he's pulling off a rather obscene looking dance move up against Matthew, whose lost some inhibition and is laughing and dancing along.

Alfred whistles at the sight. "Nice."

"Woah, you wouldn't be able to tell he's had a creepy obsession with him for so long." Lars comments.

"Hey!" Sadiq says, and Lars rolls his eyes. "Bro, that's unrequited love. None of that obsession stuff."

"Since when have you been so defensive of him?"

Sadiq opens his mouth, then his eyebrows crinkle. There's a moment of silence and then a-

"Well, since when have you been gay?"

"Brilliant, Sadiq," Lars replies, voice sardonic. "That has got to be the only good comeback I've heard out of your mouth."

"Men," Alfred snaps his fingers in between the two scowling guys. "This is a time for celebration, not awkward hatred. We must enjoy the fact that Matt's graduated from admiring from afar to admiring up close."

"Oh. Right." Sadiq's tone drops to something a bit too casual as he remembers why the argument had started in the first place. "Well yenno, as long as they don't run into Alejandro."

"Who runs into Alejandro?" a fourth voice joins them, and Francis appears with a bowl of grapes in his hand. He offers everyone some, before squeezing in beside Sadiq on the couch.

"Matt and Gilbert." Alfred answers, gesturing with his head towards the crowd. Francis hums and nods.

"I give it five minutes." he says simply, popping a grape into his mouth. "All they have to do is make eye contact and Gilbert and Alejandro will be trying to kill each other. Again."

"And I'll go save Matt, like a Hero. Boss. Whatever."

"I'm sure you are." Francis says in a slightly flippant tone.

"I am." Alfred sniffs and makes sure that Francis sees him pointedly looking away.

"Look, if they get in a fight, I'll just pull off Alejandro." Sadiq shrugs. "In the end, all three of them are weak. Weaker than me, at least."

"True." Alfred nods contemplatively. "Oh look, there's Alejandro. Yo, is he dancing with Monaco chick from your French class?"

"Monica," Francis corrects. "Monaco is a country."

"Same shit." Alfred waves it off. "She's from there anyways so I don't see why it matters."

"I don't know whether I want them to run into each other or not." Lars says, reaching for another grape.

"Five minutes." Francis reiterates, and the four watch on.

* * *

Sometimes things do turn out for the better, and Matthew can indeed carry himself quite marvelously. As awkward as he finds dancing in the basement-turned-makeshift club in someone's house, he thinks he is managing rather well. Albeit the large and probably stupid grin stretched across his face.

Especially because he's dancing with his crush.

"I told you it was going to be fun," Gilbert says into his ear.

Maybe it's because said crush has latched on to him, slipping his arms around Matthew's waist as he buries his face into the crook between Matthew's neck and shoulder while they dance. Unfortunately, as seductive as it is, the latter tickles like hell and every time Matthew feels Gilbert's breath there in the sensitive skin he has the urge to do an odd sort of twitch that will probably result in physical pain for both of them. So he saves telling Gilbert for later, and just enjoys the moment that comes when your crush of way too long has started to pay you attention. A couple of other people have also glanced at them once or twice but have left them alone otherwise.

He stretches his neck, half in an attempt to relieve the ticklish sensation and half in an attempt to see if Alfred and Lars have moved. He sees Sadiq and Francis sitting there as well, one with a bowl of grapes in his hand. The four pairs of eyes seemed to be trained in the exact same spot that Matthew and Gilbert are dancing so Matthew quickly looks away.

It's in that moment that he makes eye contact with a pretty brunette girl with her hair in a braid hanging loosely over a shoulder, and her dance partner. Who happens to be Alejandro.

Immediately, he ducks his head, ending up bumping it against Gilbert's.

"Hey," He says, trying to get his attention. "Gilbert."

"Mmm?" Gilbert hums into the small patch of exposed skin, and Matthew really has to fight his reflexes to not accidentally whack him.

"Want to leave here?" He asks, and Gilbert pulls back.

"If you want." A slow smile unfurls on his face, and Matthew immediately lets go of him in favour of raising his hands up in front of him.

"I-I mean to get a drink." Matthew clarifies, and Gilbert chuckles as he lets go as well. "Or something."

"Yeah yeah, whatever. I'm tired of those four creeping us anyways."

So thankfully, Matthew has avoided a potential disaster as they dip out of the basement and head upstairs. He's much protesting all of Gilbert's insistence that, if Matthew's gone through all the trouble of pulling him out of the crowd they might as well go get a room already, though instead of a lame blush he's laughing at all of the innuendo thrown at him.

They're back in the kitchen, where Gilbert sees a few bottles of sealed and unattended beer and one bottle of Finnish vodka. Of course, since there is no one within a five feet or thirty second radius that seems to own them, he claims them as his own by rounding them up in his arms. He waits for another thirty seconds for someone to come bursting in and saying that the booze is theirs, but no one does.

And yet again, Matthew is dragged somewhere. This time it's upstairs, where the crowd is significantly lesser than anywhere else.

"This way, we don't share." Gilbert explains, peering down the hall. "I think that wash room over there should be empty."

* * *

"They just left." Alfred says, with some incredulity in his voice. "Those motherfuckers just left."

"It could be for the better," Francis points out. "Maybe they've gone to do something more productive."

The three other boys look at him, and he blinks in a fake sort of innocence. "Maybe they've gone to meet up with other friends or something."

"That's definitely not what you meant." Alfred states, and Francis throws him a disdainful look.

"I may be a romantic, but I am not a pervert." He sniffs, and pops a grape in his mouth. "Barbarians. All of you."

* * *

Being designated driver is a job that Matthew's not quite fit for anymore. It might have something to do with the fact that he's managed to scrub off the marker on his forehead, leaving only a faint trace of it on the skin.

Matthew had originally been against the idea because in the end, he wanted everyone to get home safely. Gilbert then proceeded to tell him that Ludwig has not a stick, but an entire log up his ass, and has done the right thing by passing off the car keys to Carlos who's been told not to let kids drive home drunk. Or to let Gilbert take the keys under any circumstances. Matthew had been reluctant to give in, because drinking and hot boxing then depriving people of a ride home didn't seem like the polite thing to do. Gilbert told him to lighten up, and Matthew hesitantly took his first delicate sip of his vodka. Then the thought occurred to him that maybe there was a reason those drinks were left out in the open and that was because there were dubious substances placed within them. That led Gilbert to stare at Matthew with a hard gaze for a full thirty seconds before shrugging, brushing it off, and taking a swig himself.

Somehow, that led to more alcohol consumption, something Matthew is glad he doesn't do too often because his hang overs always suck. Inevitably, Gilbert brought out the tiny packet Lars had given him, his lighter, and a small yellow pipe that had also been tucked in somewhere. They share a bowl, and due to the enclosed space of the washroom, it ended up being a hot boxing session and both were left feeling very, _very_ chill.

Which is where they are now, as they sit side by side underneath the towel rod. They've worked up a really good buzz and are talking much about nothing, which causes them to giggle. Their voices oscillate, causing them to giggle even louder and the chill atmosphere leads Matthew to think that maybe he can do something today after all. And he's not even that upset that Lars has won the bet, or he has nothing on Alfred, or he was assigned designated driver because he can't even drive now.

"Fuck yo," Gilbert interrupts his own story about finding his brother's diary, which Matthew finds particularly entertaining. Almost as entertaining as Gilbert found the story of Matthew and Carlos ending up in the same yoga class last year, a class their mothers had insisted on. "I'm hungry. Let's go downstairs."

"I want a some chicken," Matthew says, his train of thought derailing quickly. "Or chips. Chips would be nice."

"That would be really nice." Gilbert agrees. "Really, really nice."

But they continue sitting there for a couple of more minutes, and it's not until they hear a "Hey man, are you going to be in there for long?" in a thick Australian accent and a frantic knock, that they decide that they should actually get to moving.

"Wanna go now?"

"Yeah."

* * *

"I'm not your lackey." Sadiq reiterates, passing Alejandro the carton of mango juice from the fridge. "And we're not hunting anyone down."

"I said get me orange juice, not mango." Alejandro scowls, mood still sour from being humiliated in the backyard. "I just want to settle a score."

"Same shit, they're both orange in colour." Sadiq heaves a great sigh, and Alejandro sticks his tongue out at him. "Real mature man, real mature. Look, maybe if you told me what this was over I could back you up. Or something."

Alejandro opens his mouth, then closes it again. "No. It's between us two. No one else can know."

"Whatever you say." Sadiq shakes his head.

"Sadiq!" A voice calls out, an octave or so higher than he's used to, and Sadiq raises his sight to see two very lovely people stumble into the kitchen. He grimaces and shakes his head, hoping Matthew will pick up the hint, but the scrubbed off marker on his face probably means he won't.

"Hey Sadiq, who ya with?" Gilbert asks, thumping Alejandro on the back as he and Matthew come up. "Is there any chicken in the fridge?"

"That would be Alejandro." Sadiq says, and Gilbert's face falls as he gets a good look at Alejandro, who's just turned to face him.

Meanwhile, Matthew, who has glided over to the fridge to look for food, starts humming Lady Gaga underneath his breath. Sadiq clamps a hand over Matthew's mouth quickly before Alejandro hears.

"Convenient," Alejandro comments. "I was just talking about you."

"Missed me that much?" Gilbert taunts, and Alejandro shoves him off. "Yo man, not awesome."

"You pulled a dirty move back there," Alejandro says, a little loudly. "I'm going to beat your ass into the ground."

Sadiq weighs his options, as he sees a couple of people standing near the kitchen island start to stare. He can either leave the situation, not be a part of it, and not be permanently embarrassed. Or he can stay, and save both Alejandro's and Gilbert's asses from the encounter that is quickly going down the drain.

"Nah, you ain't." Gilbert flips him off. "Can't even throw a punch, let alone throw me."

"Boys," Sadiq starts and is effectively ignored as he tries to tell them to stop.

"Don't cheese me, yo." Alejandro says, voice threatening. "Or I'll have my foot so far up your ass it's gonna come outta yer mouth. Or maybe you like that stuff?"

"Ain't that the same thing I said to ya a couple of months ago?" Gilbert furrows his brow, and thinks for a second. "If I wanted my come back, I'd wipe it off yer mom's face."

The people by the island are still watching, slightly amused. Sadiq's highly entertaining the thought of sneaking away before it gets humiliating for the two boys.

"That was funnier when I read it on the internet," Alejandro spits. Specifically, in Gilbert's face, which causes the latter to shove Alejandro backwards.

"Asshole."

Matthew's finished searching the fridge, closes it and turns around to see Alejandro shoving Gilbert back. This time, Gilbert decides that punching the other boy in the gut is a better idea and carries it out. In retaliation, Alejandro aims one at Gilbert's face and hits his target dead on, causing him to stagger back and curse loudly.

In a split second, the two are on each other. Matthew ducks in time to avoid one body slamming the other into the fridge, causing it to shake slightly. His eyes widen as he finally fully grasps what's happening. He, like Sadiq, doesn't know whether he should be jumping in or let the two vent their anger out on each other.

Jumping into the fight last time had helped him kick start things with Gilbert, but Matthew's sure nothing like that's needed now and that he doesn't need to risk personal injury and Gilbert doesn't need his help right now because he seems to be doing just fine by his own.

They rebound off the fridge and crash to the floor, Alejandro landing over Gilbert and punching him wherever he can reach. In turn, Gilbert claws at Alejandro's face and hits him under the chin.

The group of people has substantially grown, including a wary Lovino Vargas who's got Antonio ready to jump in, in case the two start breaking things. Some people are egging the people on, while others are just watching with mere fascination.

Gilbert has managed to throw Alejandro off of him, and quickly jumps to his feet. Alejandro tries to get up as well, but Gilbert aims a swift kick towards one of his arms causing the lanky teen to bite back a yell. Alejandro reaches and grabs Gilbert's ankle, pulling it so that he topples over onto his ass. He crawls on top of the boy, and pins him down by his neck. In turn, Gilbert's hands shoot to Alejandro's neck and Matthew and Sadiq simultaneously decide that now's a good time to pull the two apart.

After hastily conferencing, it's decided that Sadiq being the bigger of the two will go in and initially stop Alejandro and Gilbert. He grabs Alejandro by the hood of his jacket (because it's not proper swag if you only wear a jacket outdoors), and proceeds to effortlessly yank him off Gilbert. Gilbert and Alejandro both gasp for breath simultaneously, and Gilbert is back on his feet, trying to get at Alejandro.

Matthew comes up from behind and hooks his arms with Gilbert's, pulling him back so that he can't lash out again. Thankfully, Matthew does have a considerable amount of strength, and manages to hold onto Gilbert.

"Come at me, fuckwad." Gilbert sneers to Alejandro, who throws an equally venomous insult right back.

"I think it's time to go, eh?" Matthew says, trying to pull Gilbert away. Gilbert turns his head to look at who's grabbed him.

"Oh hey Matt," He casually greets as if he's not just been pulled from a fight. "What's up?"

* * *

Surprisingly, it doesn't take much to calm Gilbert back down again. In fact, he drops from angry to chill at a rather alarming rate.

Gilbert fluffs the pillow up, then pats it here and there to even it out. Matthew watches owlishly over the proceedings, as Gilbert then drops the pillow into the tub. He pushes it to the end of the tub, away from the tap.

He motions with his hands, and Matthew passes him the second pillow. It's given the same treatment, and this one has the honour of being right beside the tub.

Sadiq had pulled a protesting Alejandro away from the kitchen, telling him that needed to pick his fights more wisely and stop being a complete prick and ruining the mood of the party. Lovino had inspected the kitchen for damages, while Gilbert inspected himself. He had earned some bruises and scratches and what seemed like the beginnings of a black eye but on the good side, nothing had broken in the Vargas house hold.

Matthew had tried to calm Gilbert down, but found that Gilbert happily accepted the fact the fight was over. He reasoned that he had sufficiently kicked Alejandro's ass, and would proceed to do so again at a later time.

After their second escape from Alejandro, they headed straight back towards the wash room they have now taken residence in permanently. Gilbert left Matthew to guard the bathroom for a couple of minutes, saying he needed to stock up on supplies. Matthew complied, curious what he meant by that, and waited at the other end of the locked bathroom door until Gilbert knocked.

He had come in with two pillows and blankets, and had shoved them into Matthew's hand. Declaring he was tired, he had taken one pillow and immediately set to work, leading to confusion for Matthew.

Even after the adrenaline from the fight, they were still in that ambient state and Matthew feels that maybe lying down in the middle of a field of grass somewhere would be a very good idea.

Then suddenly, as Gilbert smoothes over the second pillow, it dawns on Matthew exactly what is happening here.

"We're sleeping here?" Matthew asks, and Gilbert shrugs.

"Appears so."

And yet again, Matthew will be_ that_ kid at the party. The one that passes out in the bathtub. But this time it's a bit different. The idea of having to sleep in someone's washroom _willingly_ has never really appealed to Matthew, so he frowns.

"Why?" he asks. "Don't they have beds here? Wouldn't that be a more comfortable place?"

"For what? Fucking?" Gilbert deadpans, and even if he's slightly out of it Matthew is suddenly flooded with a deep red blush and various thoughts and urge to say "Yeah" in what has the potential to be a very embarrassing way. But he doesn't act on the urge thankfully, and Gilbert continues on.

"Alejandro is out there." he says, straightening up and stepping back to admire his own handiwork. "Though I can kick his ass into next year, I bet his goonies are with him. They like to play dirty and I'd rather keep my face intact."

Matthew would normally form a somewhat acceptable answer to this, but instead, one word that Gilbert had said has caught his interest. And he finds it rather amusing, and fails to suppress a small spit of laughter.

Actually no, he's not going to lie. Matthew Williams starts fucking _giggling_, because he is thoroughly entertained by that one word that Gilbert has said.

"Huh?" Gilbert asks, raising his eyebrows at the sudden outburst, leaning his shoulder against the bathroom wall.

In between giggles, forgetting how stupid he sounds, Matthew manages to let Gilbert know what exactly has set him off. Gilbert gives an incredulous look.

"You find goonies a funny word?" Matthew nods, and Gilbert casts his gaze over to the lid of the toilet, where the previously used pipe is sitting. He cracks a smile, and tries to hide it. It results in a weird half grimace, and soon he ends up laughing as well (at least that's what _he_ calls it; Matthews classifying that as giggling as well) with Matthew.

It takes them some time to calm down, and Matthew ends up having to support himself against the wall next to Gilbert as well.

Then a small thought flashes through Matthew's brain that involves something about initiative. He's not quite sure what it is but he vaguely knows what it entails. It seems like a downright brilliant idea, because Gilbert seems very chill and Matthew feels very chill right now, both mostly due to laughing over that word. With a slight burst of courage that he cannot pinpoint the origin for at the moment, Matthew supposes that even if the favour is not returned, everything will still be very chill and they can laugh it off.

"Hey, ya wanna look over here?" He asks, and Gilbert turns to face him. With little preamble, Matthew leans in and kisses Gilbert on the lips (and mentally pats himself on the back for not missing completely) and holds his mouth there in hopes that it will be romantic. Embarrassment is stirring within him and he pulls away, but it hasn't fully made it to his brain yet, so he just stares at Gilbert.

The platinum-haired teen looks extremely confused for a moment, then looks suddenly enlightened.

"Oh yeah, Alfred's always been telling me you like me..."

A dopey grin stretches across his face as Matthew's face falls and starts to go red.

"He told you?" Matthew exclaims with a gasp, and tries to make a mental note to kill Alfred when he is more sober.

"Yup!" Gilbert admits cheerily. "Told me everything! We even planned shit for it."

Then his face goes blank, smile dropping instantly. "Oh damn, I don't think I was supposed to tell you that."

"Oh."

"Shit."

Well then. Matthew honestly doesn't know where this leaves them, and what should happen next.

They stare at each other, and Gilbert is going slightly pink as well. Though Matthew is pretty sure that this is due to a "Oh fuck Alfred will kill me" thought instead of a "Hey, look who kissed me" kind of thought.

"Um..." Matthew says, with a lack of anything else to speak of. He's tempted to bolt out of the bathroom right now, but something within him reasons that it would not be the best course of action.

"So you wanna, um..." Gilbert scratches the back of his head, trying to think of something. This awkward atmosphere is not the chill one that Matthew has been anticipating, but regret has been stored at the back of his brain to be used tomorrow.

"Sleep?" Matthew suggests, and Gilbert opens his mouth. Immediately, he clamps it shut again and gives a curt nod.

"Yeah, um... do you want the tub?" He asks, and Matthew shrugs. "Okay, you get the tub. I'll take the floor."

"Yeah, ok." Neither moves afterwards. Matthew is torn between wondering whether to think about Gilbert's reaction or plot Alfred's destruction.

"So..." Gilbert shifts uncomfortably, then pushes himself off the wall. "I'll catch you in the morning then."

"Okay." Matthew replies. In an attempt to break the tension, Gilbert breaks out into an uneasy and sort of embarrassed looking grin and Matthew finds himself starting to mirror the expression. Matthew even gives a rather lame, rather abrupt, and maybe a little too loud laugh, but it dies as soon as Gilbert plants one on Matthew's mouth. It's a brief and awkward pressing of the lips, and lasts for a grand total of five seconds. As soon as the two pull apart, they're both identically red and wearing identical idiotic grins.

"Goodnight then." Matthew mumbles, and Gilbert gives a funny jerk with his head. They share another quick peck before both lose all courage levels.

"Yeah. 'Night."

When Matthew lies down in the tub, he would like to curl up on his side and fidget with his fingers and think about the guy that he has just kissed and is on the other side of the tub wall. The same guy that he's been crushing on for god knows how long.

But he's still kinda spaced out, so he guesses that all of this will have to be done in the morning. Also, this tub isn't big enough to lend itself to that sort of body placement, so Matthew has to dangle his legs out of the tub lest they cramp up. As he eventually manages to fall asleep, not hard given the fact that there is dead silence in the wash room, he gives himself a mental hi-five and hopes that in the morning (or whenever they wake up really) they can function a bit more normally.

Or something like that.


	16. Chapter 16

**Relationship Status: It's Complicated**

Chapter Sixteen

* * *

As Matthew wakes up, he realizes his glasses are digging into his face and he's pressed against something smooth and cool. His body feels cramped, and he also realizes he is cramped awkwardly in someone's wash tub.

There is also something repeatedly poking at his forehead. It's probably something/someone stupid, and as that someone/something gives a small slap to his cheek Matthew grumbles a couple of curse words and tells the person to go the fuck away, _please_.

Nothing is poking him now, but the something/someone _has_ clamped over his nose. With one source of air circulation is suddenly cut off, Matthew jolts awake and finds a fuzzy figure hovering above him. He blinks, clearing away the last of the blurry sleep from his eyes.

"Mornin'" Gilbert greets, kneeling over the edge of the tub.

"Good morning," Matthew says in response, trying to roll onto his back. A couple of things in his body creak, and he groans as he feels the extent to which the stiffness has settled in.

"Having a little bit of trouble there?" Gilbert says, watching with slight amusement as Matthew focuses on disentangling himself and getting a grip on his bearings.

Finally Matthew has managed to maneuver himself into an upright, sitting position. There's a mild headache, but it's nothing he can't ignore as he collects his memory from the night before. When it feels sufficiently pieced together, and he's repressed any embarrassing action that would result from rethinking anything from last night, he turns to Gilbert.

"What time is it?" he asks, his voice still slightly slurring with fatigue.

"Nine in the morning." Gilbert replies, shifting backwards to give Matthew space to move out.

Good. So Matthew hasn't woken up at some unusual hour that will require more explanation upon his return home.

Though, for a Saturday morning, the time_ is_ rather ungodly. He would rather go back to sleep, since the tub is bearable, but he knows that getting home eventually is in his best interests. How, though, is the question. Everyone else has probably already found a ride home, and he wonders if Gilbert has his own ride home.

"So, um..." He averts his gaze to the tap at the other end of the tub. He's not quite sure what he should ask. If Gilbert has a ride home? If he could give Alfred a ride home? If, since they kissed and Gilbert knows he likes him (something for which the embarrassment is still taking long to settle in for somehow), maybe they should go on a date? If the Vargas brothers were willing to provide breakfast?

"Do you need a ride?" Gilbert asks and Matthew nods, thankful he's not had to have thought up a question.

"If it's no problem..." Matthew pulls a small frown. "Doesn't your brother have the car?"

"Nope." Gilbert jerks a thumb behind him, towards the toilet seat.

The lid is up, and to it is taped a pair of keys and a piece of paper. Matthew squints, and he can make out something about stupid brothers, Ludwig and his location, and how Gilbert should be grateful Lovino didn't kick them out of the bathroom. The keys have a key chains with the initials L.B on it, and Matthew hopes that Gilbert actually has a license because there is no way he is going to risk driving with just a learner's license. He's just not that daring.

"Oh, then if it's not a problem..."

"Dude, you already said that."

"Oh, I did?"

Gilbert stares at him, and for lack of anything else to do, Matthew stares back.

"Sorry."

"You're very polite." Gilbert says, and Matthew tries to give a small smile without looking like he's grimacing.

"So I've been told. Are we having breakfast?" Matthew asks, trying to make an effort to get out of the tub but failing to due to the lack of energy his morning-after body has.

"Well..." Gilbert trails off, casting his gaze towards the bathroom door. "Since I made you your bed, I think the_ polite_ thing to do would be to make me breakfast."

Matthew is about to attempt to protest, then remembers that

a) The amazing cooking skills he has is taken granted for by Alfred and sometimes Lars, but not by Gilbert. This will probably lead to more compliments for Matthew.

b) Which is always a nice way to start the morning.

c) And Matthew's stomach rumbles embarrassingly loud, indicating that maybe food is a good idea.

"Need a little help there?" Without waiting for Matthew to reply, he stretches out a hand.

Matthew warily accepts it and finds it easier to get out as Gilbert heaves him up. He mutters a simple thanks, answered with a hair ruffle and an extensive list of what exactly Gilbert would like for breakfast.

Out of everything that Gilbert suggests, which ranges from pancakes and muffins to pizza or barbecue, by the time Matthew gets to the kitchen, he settles for toast and eggs. They step over the mess in the kitchen, and Gilbert informs them that toast and eggs is a shitty idea but it will have to do since they only have till the more temperamental Vargas brother wakes up before they are booted out of the house.

It's quiet as Matthew hunts for eggs, while Gilbert sets in bread for toasting. Matthew knows that since he has liked Gilbert for a while and hasn't just randomly met him at a party, the events that have transpired the previous night before enables Matthew to ask Gilbert out on a date. Things aren't awkward or anything, at least it doesn't seem so, so now would be a pretty good opportunity for Matthew.

Gilbert asks idly if Matthew wants to go out and get an iced capp with him as he puts his head on Matthew's shoulder to watch over what he's making. This catches Matthew by surprise, causing him to jump slightly and bump the underside of Gilbert's chin with his shoulder.

Gilbert curses loudly and Matthew finds himself apologizing frantically as the other rubs his jaw gingerly. Silence falls back, and it takes five minutes until Matthew remembers he hasn't answered Gilbert's question. He says he doesn't have any money, and Gilbert says that it's okay because he does and he can get him something.

By the time the eggs are done, a door slams upstairs and some faint swearing floats down. Gilbert hushes Matthew in the middle of him asking if he could get some plates out.

"Feli!" The voice says. "Get over here! Your friends are in my bed, get them out!"

Gilbert's eyes widen, and he frowns.

"Man, the fucker's awake already? Dude, check the cabinets for a container or some shit, I'll be right back."

With that, Gilbert leaves a slightly confused Matthew turning off the stove and looking through someone else's kitchen for plastic containers.

"Matt!" A voice calls out loudly. "Matt, pack the food into the container!"

"The fuck?" A second voice replies, probably Lovino's. "Bastard, who the hell is there?"

"Hurry!" Gilbert bounds into the kitchen, as there are faint thumps down the stairs.

"Who's taking the food?" Lovino demands, and Gilbert grabs the containers from Matthew when he feels he isn't shoving the eggs in fast enough.

"Leave that there!" Gilbert hisses, as Matthew makes a move to pick up the toast. He opens a drawer and picks out two plastic forks, and hip-bumps it close in a hurry. "Out we go!"

As they shuffle out of the kitchen, they unfortunately run into Lovino, who looks disheveled and none too pleased.

"Where the fuck are you doing with that?" Lovino asks, and Gilbert waves the orange plastic in his face.

"Food, duh. Now if you'll excuse us, we need to run."

"Wait- what the, hold up!" Lovino makes a dive for the container, and Gilbert dances out of his reach. "You can't just take my food!"

"Technically, it's not your food." Gilbert states. "Just your ingredients. Technically it's Matt's. He cooked it, it's his blood sweat and tears in there."

Then, Gilbert rethinks what he says and pulls a face, holding the container out. "Ew, in that case. Take it."

Lovino reaches for it, and Gilbert immediately yanks his hand away.

"Ha! Psych!" With that, Matthew's grabbed by the arm and Gilbert hauls them both towards and out the front door, as they are followed by an angry and rather intimidating Lovino.

"You skin bleached potato bastard!" Lovino yells after them. "Get back here with my fucking Tupperware!"

"I'll give it to Feli when he's over next," Gilbert calls out over his shoulder. "Trust, bro!"

Matthew's kept quiet for the most part, because it's still too early in the morning and everything is happening too quickly for him to form any sort of coherent commentary. He does, though, ask if Lovino's always this angry.

"Always." Gilbert nods, holding up the key and clicking the unlock button to the Audi. Lovino's using both hands to give them the finger, and Gilbert blows a kiss right back as he slides into the driver's seat.

* * *

Turns out, when loud and obscene music is not being blasted because the occupants are not physically up to high volume warbling, driving to get some iced cappuccinos gives said occupants a good chance to talk about normal things. Like school, friends, Alfred and Lars probably hooking up, that history project that they should eventually get a start on. Gilbert's said they've still got plenty of time, and they'll manage something.

Eventually.

Matthew is still mentally debating when to ask Gilbert if he's up to some date kind of situation. Nothing has been said about the kiss the night before, nor the fact that Gilbert knows that Matthew likes him (though Matthew is hoping the latter is because it never actually happened and hearing those words have just been a figment of his imagination).

"We're going to this one place where my family friend works," Gilbert explains, when Matthew asks why they turned off the main road when there was a shop just a further bit down. "He'll give us a discount and stuff."

"Family friend, eh?"

"Yeah. Roderich. I'm pretty sure you've met him before. Brunet, with a mole, really lame?"

"Are you this nice to all your friends?" Matthew laughs quietly.

"Only to him," Gilbert explains. "But don't tell him I said that again, or he'll not give us an employee discount. Or at least, don't tell him till I'm done paying."

Matthew's tempted to ask Gilbert if what Alfred has said about him dating Roderich was true, but figures it might be too personal. And it might come off as creepy that he knows something about Gilbert's personal life. And he may come of jealous, which he is legitimately not. Just curious.

They pull into the parking lot, and when they go inside, there is indeed a bespectacled teen working at the cash.

"Ricky!" Gilbert cheerfully calls out, earning a sour look from Roderich.

"I'm pretty sure I told you not to call me that, _Bert._" Roderich replies coolly. "Are you going to order?"

"Hey, you liked it when we were 'dating'," Gilbert raises his hands to make two air quotations. "And yeah. Two large iced capps please, and don't forget the employee's discount. I only have five bucks."

"I'm also pretty sure I told you to never speak of those weeks again," Roderich punches in the order and after a pointed look from Gilbert, adds the employee's discount. "Anything else?"

"Nope." Gilbert throws a five dollar bill onto the counter. "But why not? You were the best heterosexual boyfriend I've ever had."

"You're barbaric." Roderich sniffs, while counting out change. Meanwhile, Matthew stands there slightly confused.

"Your barbaric," Gilbert mimics, and snorts. "Man, you should have taken Francis as your fake boyfriend. You guys and your flowery language would have gotten along to the point where you'd want to actually date him."

"Fake boyfriend?" Matthew says, maybe a little too loudly and immediately regrets it. Gilbert casts him, not a "you're-nose-shut-up" kind of look, but a knowing smirk, while Roderich merely rolls his eyes.

"Unfortunately, yes. Please don't tell him the story. Not in front of me at least, I would like to not replay that moment in my life."

Roderich's co-worker sets two iced cappuccinos on the counter, and Gilbert grins.

"I'll save that for a later day," he says. "The tale of how Edelstein couldn't resist my charm."

Roderich pulls a disgusted looking face, while Gilbert sticks his tongue out and wriggles it at him.

"Go away before you scare any other customers." Roderich makes a shooing motion. "Or anyone thinks we're friends."

* * *

The rest of the ride back is pleasant, but Gilbert forgets to mention exactly what that fake boyfriend stuff back at the shop was about. Matthew doesn't press it either ways, because in the end it's not his business.

Well, he'd like to know, and he's painfully curious, but he holds off the questions.

The radio has been turned on full blast, and after surfing through numerous stations ranging from rap to metal, Gilbert settles on a music station that's currently playing an Estonian chamber choir.

"They think it's pansy music," Gilbert explains, when Matthew asks if he ever gets made fun of for his tastes. "But this is the music of many an epic battle, or some shit."

Eventually, they arrive in Matthew's neighbourhood, and Gilbert rounds the block as per Matthew's request.

"My mom questions everything when she's mad, and I think she's mad for me running out yesterday." Matthew explains, and Gilbert waves it off as no problem. They park on the street with the driver's side facing the road, and Matthew gets out. As he closes the door, he bends down and peers through the open window.

"Thanks for the ride," He gives a small smile. "And the iced capp."

"No problem," Gilbert replies, then unbuckles himself. "Yo, come over to this side for a second."

"Huh?"

"Just for a second, man." He gets out of the car, and Matthew straightens up. Gilbert taps the roof of the car, then makes a gesture for Matthew to come over. "Dude, I'm not going to bite you."

Matthew gives Gilbert a look, gets an exasperated one in return, and slowly walks over to the other side. By the time he gets there, Gilbert is leaning against his car. He's got his cool face on as always, but Gilbert's fiddling with his fingers slightly.

"Yeah?"

Gilbert indicates for Matthew to stand in front of him, face to face, eye to eye, and a bunch of other things that has Matthew suddenly feeling rather uncomfortable.

"Hey, um..." Gilbert scratches the back of his head. "Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to chill again."

"Chill...?"

"Yeah. As in, _just_ you and me."

"Oh." He's been called dense (but he prefers blissfully oblivious) before, but Matthew is pretty sure Gilbert is implying what he thinks he's been implying.

"Yeah?'

"Yeah, um...yeah." Matthew digs his hands in his pockets. Then, because he just can't help it sometimes he asks, "Do you mean like a date or something?"

"Yes, actually." Gilbert says, and Matthew catches a small hint of relief in his voice.

Matthew, on the other hand, has done a mental back flip. A big one, because _Gilbert_ has asked_ Matthew_ out, instead of Matthew breaking his brain on how he's going to ask Gilbert if he wants to go get some food together some time.

But, because he is at times socially awkward he blurts out a, "A serious date?"

"Yeah?"

Matthew suddenly finds his shoes rather interesting, and hopes his cheeks aren't going pink like he thinks they are. "Oh, okay. I was just...checking."

"Well, if you want to..." Gilbert nudges Matthew's calf with his foot, getting him to look up at him again. "I thought it would be a good idea, because Alfred told me you liked me. Right?"

Oh. Right. _Alfred_ has told Gilbert, and Matthew still needs to think of a way to get pay back. He shrugs shyly, because it's not something he can just say out loud.

"I mean, it's not just because of that." Gilbert adds hastily. "Hanging out with you has been pretty awesome so I think maybe dating you would be cool. And you're cute, too. But I figured you'd be down for it, after kissing me and stuff yesterday."

Yes, Matthew is completely down for it, but there are no words forming in his head because he has been told that he is both attractive and that he's a good person to hang out with and he's been asked out on a date and as much as he asserts his manliness, he'd be lying if he doesn't say he's absolutely giddy.

Gilbert, thinking Matthew is _still _waiting for something more, continues talking.

"And I already cleared it with Francis, he says it totally won't break our bro code if we happen and I don't _legit_ ask people out often aside from this anyways. So, I think it'd be pretty fucking awesome if we got to know each other more and stuff."

Matthew _finally _manages to say something, even though it's just a simple "Okay" to the small ramble.

"Okay?"

"Yeah." Matthew gives half a grin, in order to let Gilbert know that he isn't completely zoned out on their conversation. "Sounds good."

Surprisingly, it is Matthew giving clipped answers and not Gilbert. But it works for the two of them, and Gilbert's slowly regaining that arrogant smile of his.

"Good," He says. "Now that we have established our mutual liking, I don't need to excessively flirt with you."

"I don't mind- Wait, you flirted with me?"

If Matthew hasn't been blushing before, he sure as hell is now. At least he's not alone, because even Gilbert's awesome can't keep the pink in his cheeks at bay.

"Aside from kissing you? Yeah, I have, didn't you ever notice?" Gilbert scrunches his face then adds on a, "God, why are we even blushing like two losers?"

Matthew has no answer to that, but he does have a question that's suddenly popped into his mind. A question that probably should be answered as soon as possible.

"Did Alfred tell you anything else?"

"Do you want me to be honest?" Matthew nods, slowly. "He also mentioned that you've liked me for eightish months. Or was that Francis? Either ways, as totally creepy as I found it the first time I heard it, it's cool with me. "

Matthew blinks. Gilbert blinks. Matthew blinks again.

"I'm s-sorry." He mumbles, and Gilbert gives a short chuckle.

"Dude, don't be. You shoulda told me though. And I'd totally like me for that long if I were you too."

Matthew laughs along, but on the inside he is shriveling with embarrassment. He ducks his head, and his glasses slide down slightly.

"Yo, you okay?"

"Y-yeah." Matthew raises his head slightly, giving an embarrassed smile. It's somehow worse that Gilbert not only knows that he's been crushing on him, but he knows exactly how long.

Right as he tries to push his glasses back up his nose and clears his mouth in a nervous tic, Gilbert pushes off the car so that he can be level with Matthew. He tries to kiss him and ends up getting hit in the face with Matthew's fingers. Gilbert immediately cups his nose and swears, while Matthew tries to apologize frantically. He's inching towards Gilbert to see if he's okay, and gets a hand on his shoulder to keep him at bay.

"Hold on a second, kid." Gilbert drops his hand and wriggles his nose. "Fuck that hurt."

"Sorry," Matthew mumbles, but there's a small smile tugging on his lips anyways.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

With that, Gilbert's hands drifts towards Matthew's, holding on to them so that he does not accidentally get hurt again. He also uses them to pull Matthew closer to him so that this time when they kiss, it isn't awkward or lame or any other variant of the two. In fact they pull it off rather well and Gilbert carefully leans back again against his car, bringing Matthew with him.

As he feels a tongue slowly work its way in and tastes a hint of the iced capp Gilbert has been drinking on the way home, Matthew has got that small happy feeling building within him. His brain hasn't short-circuited yet (like Alfred has repeatedly told him it will) at the fact he's now making out with his more-than-a-crush-now, and he's thankful for that.

Gilbert's hands slide up to grip his forearms and instead of the sudden burst of excitement that Matthew's been expecting for so long, the feeling spreads in a sort of sleepy warmth. He figures that it might be better to have that any ways. Of course, later on he will go home and tell his cat with great vigour about what has transpired within the past twenty-four hours and may or may not ramble about it to Alfred over the phone.

For now, he focuses on the lips that kiss his tongue briefly before they pull back and give him a quick peck on the cheek.

The force at which their faces are involuntarily reddening are at par as the two pull apart.

"Damn." Gilbert says. "Definitely gonna try that more often."

"Yeah," Matthew agrees somewhat shyly, and has started to fiddle with his newly released hands. "If I'm not grounded or dead when I get home."

He's hoping that Rupert and/or his mother haven't driven by because they will probably get the wrong impression if Matthew has said he's at someone's place for a sleepover and is kissing in earnest against a car with that someone the next morning. It'll probably entail him getting into even deeper trouble than before.

"We'll work out something." Gilbert grins, and leans forward for one more kiss.


	17. Chapter 17

**Relationship Status: It's Complicated**

Chapter Seventeen

* * *

As Matthew scrunches his nose at a particularly hard question, he feels something very thin trace up his thigh. His leg immediately jerks up, hitting the table with some violence. He shoots a withering glare at Alfred, who leans back into his chair and grins.

Braginski's currently answering someone's question at the other end of the room, so Matthew plucks the eraser out the back of his mechanical pencil and flicks it at Alfred. Alfred only barely manages to suppress an indignant squawk at that is caught and Braginski straightens up to look at who made a noise.

"This is a culminating task," He addresses the class as a whole but gives a pointed look to Matthew and Alfred. "I expect silence, or there will be zeros."

Braginski turns back to an increasingly annoyed Feliks, and Alfred sticks his tongue out at Matthew. Matthew, who's resolved to do as much as possible in the final stretch of school as possible to boost his grade and ease up his grounding, continues to work diligently.

After he eventually made it home that morning after the party, his mom had proceeded to thoroughly chew his head out over just about everything. While Matthew had admittedly zoned out half way through the lecture about bad grades and staying out with friends too much, he left with the knowledge that he is grounded for the remainder of the school year, equalling to around two and a half months. He's not allowed to go to anyone's house, no one's allowed over, allowance and most funding is cut off, and while he's occasionally let out of the house on the weekends, he's got a curfew and restrictions as to where he can go. Normally he would not mind, using that extra time to sleep or sneak Wi-Fi onto his phone or try and train his fat cat to do tricks but this time he has a reason to go out a bit more often than usual. So he's worked hard on raising his marks and lowering the restrictions on his grounding.

One of the ways he's worked hard is by getting a tutor who surprisingly excels in Math, the one subject that he's truly doing horrible in. Through rather unconventional ways, the tutor's taught enough for Matthew to bring his mark up in the course, and have the capability to pass the exam without humiliating himself.

He taps his pencil, looking at the question. He has no idea what the flying fuck he needs to do, and doesn't think he's covered it in one of the study sessions he's had during lunch. He searches his brain and...

...Does sort of remember looking at that part in his notes just a few days ago, asking his tutor about it, and effectively getting distracted thereon after because his tutor had a change of heart. Just the thought of that makes him blush lightly and his mind's on the verge of wandering again.

But being the good (no, _amazing_) best friend that he is, Alfred picks the gum in his mouth and flicks it at Matthew's hair, making sure Matthew's attention is back where it's supposed to be. Matthew makes a disgusted face as he picks out the stick gum, but can't throw it back because Braginski has glided over to their part of the room. Sourly, he sticks the gum under his desk, and waits till Braginski's not looking to mouth a "fuck you". Alfred makes a V-shape with his fingers and wriggles his tongue through them, an Matthew ducks his head to look like he's been working as Braginski _does_ catch that one action.

Alfred gets a hissed reprimand as Matthew works away, and is left with an insolent pout as soon as Braginski is done.

"Hey. Hey, Matt," he says once the bell finally rings and everyone is turning in their paper. "Guess what I'm doing today and you're not?"

"Being an idiot?" Matthew offers and Alfred rolls his eyes.

"Wow, you're so funny Matt. Don't kill me." he says, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Just for that, I'll tell you. Also because it's something I'm doing and you're not.

"And that would be..."

"I'm hanging out with Lars today."

"...Congratulations?"

Matthew and Alfred stand and stare at each other until Alfred blurts out a "Aren't you supposed to be jealous 'cus you can't chill with _your _boyfriend?"

Matthew gives Alfred a hard look, and chooses not to respond to that. Ever since that one morning a few weeks after they had started "dating", where Matthew had woken up to a relationship status change request online, Alfred has continuously referred to Gilbert as the boyfriend.

"I'm not jealous of you," he says as Alfred continues to prod him on their way out of the class room. "I chilled with him at lunch today."

"Oh yeah, I forgot." Alfred makes a face, as he pushes aside someone who is standing in front of the classroom door and talking to their friend. "You were having one of those _tutoring _sessions again for Math."

"Don't put it like that," Matthew scolds, as he apologizes to the student.

"Don't put it like what? Facts are facts bro," Alfred slaps Matthew's back. "And the facts are that a certain Alfred F. Jones caught Matthew Williams and the boyfriend macking in an empty stairwell, even though they claim that public displays of affection are not their thing and that the boyfriend was merely helping him with math. And Alfred may have taken a picture in exchange for Elizabeta giving him a chocolate bar but that's neither here nor there."

Matthew freezes mid-step. "You _what_?"

Alfred continues walking on, and it takes Matthew a few seconds to get his feet moving again so he can do a slight jog and catch up with Alfred.

"Did you take pictures of us?" Matthew demands, and Alfred mutters something about it being his fault for faking study periods during lunch. "Hey, he actually _teaches_ me!"

"Yeah whatever. When your final mark is still a bare pass, don't come to me asking me why." Alfred sniffs as they make their way to Matthew's locker. Matthew gives him a sour look, before fiddling with his lock. As he turns the dial, Lars materializes out of nowhere.

"Hey Matt," The tall boy greets, and his spiked hair gives him the appearance of towering over everyone else. "'Sup?"

"I was just telling him how he's going to fail Math." Alfred says, pulling the lukewarm can of iced tea he had left in Matthew's locker in the morning.

"Shut up," Matthew grumbles, shoving binders into the locker. "I studied."

"Yeah, Beilschmidt _helped_ you, didn't he?" Lars asks idly, smirking taking the can from Alfred for a sip. "Yeah, I know."

"I hate you both," Matthew says tersely, before turning to drop a textbook into his bag. "A lot."

"Hate who?" A fourth voice pipes up as Gilbert joins the group. "Those two? Why?"

"They're weird." Matthew replies, Lars and Alfred pulling a mock offended face as Matthew swings his backpack over his shoulder. Gilbert raises his hand, Matthew mirrors the action, and mid hi-five, they pull into each other to give a one-armed hug. Like always, Alfred gives his vocal disapproval about how the hug is not cute/sappy/sexual enough, and like always he's ignored.

"How was Math?" Gilbert asks as they pull away, Matthew shrugging in response.

"Good, I guess. I think I remembered everything. There was this one part where-"

"You guys are too romantic," Lars interrupts their conversation with a deadpan. "I think I'm going to leave before I get sick."

"Don't get too jealous." Gilbert throws back, and Lars rolls his eyes. Alfred, meanwhile, has grabbed Matthew's wallet off the shelf of the locker, and rifles through it to pull out a five dollar bill.

"Where are you going with that?" Matthew asks, trying to grab the bill while Alfred holds it out of his reach. "Hey, give it back! That's the only five bucks I have for the rest of the month!"

"Your point?" Alfred chirps happily as he tosses the wallet to Matthew and starts walking backwards. "You'll live! C'mon Lars, let's dip."

Matthew's too busy catching and fumbling with the wallet to run after Lars and Alfred, who have decided to gleefully book it down the hall with the new found treasure.

"Get back—!" He tries to yell after them to no avail, because he generally isn't one to yell in the first place. A chuckle comes from behind him and an arm pats his back.

"Don't worry about it," Gilbert says. "Getting it back won't be too hard."

"Maybe." Matthew sighs in defeat, and turns back to his locker to close it.

"Is your mom letting you out today?" Gilbert asks, and Matthew shakes his head.

"Nope. She wants me to stay and help garden." Matthew grimaces as he locks the lock and turns the dial back to zero. "Or specifically, help Rupert garden and bond with him."

Much to Matthew's displeasure, Rupert seems to slowly be making a place in his mother's heart. He's gotten more involved than before in their tiny family, and while he and Matthew are at cordial level, Matthew still wants to challenge him to a violent sport to get all his anger out. It's worked with Alfred, whom he had a wrestling match with to forgive him for telling people (namely Gilbert) about Matthew's secret.

"Damn." Gilbert curses lightly.

He takes a brief glance down both sides of the hallway, before quickly kissing Matthew. As cheesy as it is, while Matthew has done a really good job with acknowledging the fact that he's finally got with the guy he's been crushing on for the better part of the year, he still feels that small giddiness every time something like this happens. He's tried to explain it to Alfred, who generally laughs it off and says the best cure is to get more touchy feely in public. This is something both Matthew and Gilbert are not prone to. It is not that they are against it or that they are uncomfortable with it; it just feels rather awkward to be doing things like that in public (hence Gilbert's quick survey of the halls). There was this one time when they went to a sandwich shop for lunch and tried the bare minimum by holding hands, but after Gilbert had started yanking Matthew back and forth and sending him in all directions with his hand still attached. They have decided that they will save those things for when they are more mature.

"Want me to drive you home?" Gilbert asks. "Sadiq and Ludwig are going over to Elizabeta's tonight and nobody else is coming along so..."

Matthew's about to decline the offer, and say that Gilbert need not go through the trouble but he figures that he might as well get a ride home instead of walking in the sticky summer heat. He voices that thought out aloud and As they make their way into the parking lot, Gilbert assures Matthew that of _course_that's the reason he offered in the first place.

* * *

Like they have been for the duration of their dating, Matthew and Gilbert have remained blissfully unaware/forgetful until one sunny afternoon in history class. After wrapping up a discussion on Renaissance culture, Vargas focuses the talk on upcoming projects.

"As you know, tomorrow we're starting our major semester-long civilization seminars tomorrow. There are about twenty four of you, so I imagine we'll need a week for the presentations."

Immediately, the entire class starts protesting on how Vargas hasn't given them enough warning time and it's unfair and a bunch of other bullshit to cover up the fact that not a lot of people are prepared for this.

"It's been on the board since it has been assigned," Vargas replies coolly. "And it's been on the class webpage. And I've given you time in class to work on it. And I told you last week."

Clearly, no one in this class is productive, a good listener, or bright for the matter of fact that they continue to try and bargain with Vargas.

"It's an absolute deadline, kids," He shrugs and gives a grin. "No changing now! So who wants to go first?"

The class returns the questions with a blank stare.

Meanwhile, Matthew is thrown into a slight panic because he and Gilbert have next to nothing done. They have a minuscule amount of research finished, and have spent the last few work periods either playing games on the computer or looking up odd things on the internet and giggling like a bunch of idiots. The project requires a substantial amount of material to be covered, and Matthew's not sure if they can do it in such a short time.

He glances at Gilbert, who's turned around to give him a "fuck I think we're screwed" face. Matthew mirrors the face, and he's pretty sure just about everyone else has the same expression.

"Suit yourself then. I'll pick at random then."

A tense thirty seconds later, of which five were spent deliberating and twenty five of which are spent keeping the class in suspense, Vargas announces the first name.

"Antonio?"

Matthew heaves breathe a deep sigh of relief until Antonio says he can't because he has a dance competition but would love to go the next day, sending sniggers throughout the class room about fruity hobbies to which Antonio  
simply replies that he gets to dance with pretty girls and make it look good as opposed to awkwardly swaying at the school dance. It works in shutting the class up.

Francis is called next, and being Antonio's partner, he can't go either.

"Alright, then I guess the next person on our list is...Sadiq."

Sadiq gives a non-committal grunt beside Matthew, and Matthew is oh so thankful and—

"And Beilschmidt, you and your partner will go right after. Eduard, you and your partner will go after them. Remember kids, we're on a tight schedule."

They may or may not be completely screwed.

* * *

"Serves you right," Alfred says, leaning back in his chair in Math as Matthew finishes exclaiming his predicament. Braginski's given them a review package for exam time, meaning the class essentially has a free period.

"How?"

"I dunno," Alfred shrugs. "For existing or something. You tell me."

"I hate you." Matthew grumbles, absently flipping the papers in the package.

"Hear that, Braginski?" Alfred says to Braginski, who raises both his head and his eyebrows.

"Hear what, Alfred?"

"Matt hates me."

"I'm sure he's got good reason," Braginski replies dryly, before going back to marking. Alfred makes a face and gives him the finger, and Braginski doesn't raise his head as he informs Alfred that earns him a twenty minute detention after school.

"I'm surrounded by haters." Alfred bemoans, to which Braginski and Matthew merely nod.

"This is too much stress though," Matthew says after his eyes glaze over the review questions. "I don't even know how we're going to get this done. Especially since Mom's still not too keen on letting me out."

"Then invite the boyfriend over." Alfred suggests. "Maybe actually working would help."

"I guess..." Matthew frowns. "But I don't know if Mom would allow it. And I don't think we'd have enough time even if he did come over."

"True," Alfred hums contemplatively. "I mean, what if you guys get off while writing about Egyptian religion and end up getting _distracted_?"

Matthew blinks, until he finally gets it. With other people, he's not too great with handling innuendo, but with Alfred he just gives an exasperated roll of the eyes.

"You're disgusting." He states.

"Your life is disgusting."

"Your face is disgusting."

"Your mom is disgusting." Alfred crinkles his nose. "Wait no, scratch that, your mom's fucking hot. Don't know what happened with you though."

Matthew throws his pencil at Alfred, and it backfires as Alfred swats it out of the way and it ends up hitting Matthew square in the face. For the rest of the period, he refuses to talk to Alfred.

Well maybe not for the rest of the period, just for fifteen minutes until Matthew sees Alfred trying to slip his candy wrapper into his backpack and has to chide him.

* * *

"Come over?" Gilbert asks, leaning against the locker beside Matthew's and quirking a brow. "Getting a bit forward, aren't we?"

"For our _project_," Matthew replies as he shuts the metal door. "Since we're going tomorrow and everything."

"That would be a good idea," Gilbert hums. "Is your mom going to let me over?"

"Yeah, um..." Matthew double checks his phone to make sure that it was actually his mother who sent the text. "She says it's okay since it's for school."

He is also going to add that it doesn't matter anyways because she's out late tonight, but he's pretty sure that Gilbert will misinterpret that as an invitation to something else and they _really _need to get this project done.

"What about Rupert?"

"He's going to be out with her too."

"Alright," Gilbert says, then grins and wriggles his eyebrows. "Maybe I'll have to end up sleeping over too."

Matthew gives the same exasperated look he gives to Alfred, but it's a little softer when directed to Gilbert.

"Yeah, if we don't finish in time." He says, heaving his backpack over his shoulder.

"That's what I meant." Gilbert chuckles and since there appears to be no one in the hall except for Braginski who's talking to Peter, both of whom no one cares for any ways, he tucks his hand into one of Matthew's back pockets.

* * *

At four p.m Matthew and Gilbert are sitting at the dining table while Matthew's mother sets down two plates with pancakes in front of them, courtesy of Gilbert pulling out a lot of charm. She sets down a bottle of maple syrup and some jam, and Gilbert thanks her with a winning smile and a comment on how they smell absolutely delicious and he bets they're even better than Matthew's. Matthew tells Gilbert to stop hitting on his mom as soon as she is out of the room, and Gilbert traces his sticky fork over Matthew's cheek and says to not worry and that he still finds Matthew attractive. Matthew's not quite sure whether or not he's shut up because he was flattered or just sort of disgusted.

At around four thirty, Matthew pulls him away from the dining table to the living room and asks him to set up stuff while Matthew brings down his laptop and some old world history books he has lying around in his room. Gilbert asks why they can't work in his room, and Matthew reminds that they're actually here to study.

Four forty-five finds Matthew's cat mewling loudly as Gilbert traps him in his lap and spins around on Matthew's wheelie chair in his room.

"Don't do that!" Matthew protests between fits of laughter, as Gilbert strokes Kumajiro's fur and throws his head back for some laughter of the deep and evil kind. There is a monocle on Matthew's desk from his role as a detective in a sixth grade play, and it is placed upon Kumajiro. The cat remains unimpressed at all the voice impressions the two give until around five fifteen, when Matthew's mother says she's going out.

"For how long?" Gilbert asks, and Matthew shrugs. "Awesome, wanna make out?"

"Wh—no!" Matthew protests. "We need to do our project!"

"Wanna go out then?"

"_No_!_"_

By the time six o'clock rolls around, they're walking home from the convenience story with an arm full of candy and energy drinks and various other junk food. Or at least, Gilbert is because Matthew has to crouch down and tie his shoes. Gilbert toes his side, causing him to tip him over and fall onto the grass. When Matthew gets back on to his feet and asks what on earth possessed Gilbert to do that, Gilbert has no answer.

While dating him, Matthew's found out that Gilbert is an exceptionally weird person; but for some reason it's enduring to him. According to the Cosmopolitan magazine Alfred casually picked off Braginski's desk, it means that Matthew is also weird as fuck. At least, that's what Alfred said and he never let Matthew actually read what Cosmo has to say on the situation.

As soon as Matthew thinks it's safe again, he crouches down to tie his shoelaces and Gilbert uses his foot to push him off balance again. Matthew decides that maybe walking home with loose laces may not be as inconvenient as he thinks it is.

Some semblance work starts to rear its head at around eight o'clock, when Alfred and Lars have finally left the house. Matthew's not sure why they decided to come over in the first place, but he does know that nobody bothered to consult him before showing up at his house with a box of popcorn bags and some video games.

Originally Matthew's intentions were to shut the door on their face and get to actually working, until Alfred had issued a challenge that insulted Matthew's masculinity a bit too much. One game to shut him up was what was originally planned, but time somehow flew quicker than it normally does and by eight Matthew suddenly remembers that oh yeah, there's that huge project they've been given around three months to work on due tomorrow.

Matthew states this after he has finally (politely) ushered Lars and Alfred out of the house, and Gilbert shrugs and asks if this means he is staying for dinner, because then he's gotta let the old man know.

Two cups of noodles later, the two are back in Matthew's room, this time laying out the things they will need for their presentation.

"It says we need a visual component...and it has to be at least twenty minutes long." Matthew scans the crumpled rubric he's pulled out from the depths of his bag as he sits on his chair. "And it says it doesn't mean just the slide power-point. Apparently we need to have a skit or a poster or something."

Meanwhile, Gilbert is lying down on Matthew's bed and poking at Kumajiro, who's sprawled across Gilbert's stomach. When he gets no response, Matthew continues on.

"We need to cover the basics of the aspects of civilization and we need to also pick a couple of influential figures. And we need to relate the civilization to modern times or something." Matthew wrinkles his nose at the checklist. "And we need to have a class discussion, or involve them in some way. How are we fitting this into twenty minutes?"

"Don't worry about it." Gilbert waves him off. "We'll figure the time stuff out later. What else do we need?"

"That's the gist of it... And we need a bibliography too." Matthew reads about the amount of detail necessary, and groans. "I knew we shoulda started this earlier. We're so screwed."

"We were busy, remember?" Gilbert says, idly pulling at the fat cats fur. "I had to _help_ you in Math so you didn't fail. Didn't hear _you_ say anything then."

"That..." Matthew presses his lips together.

"Yeah?"

"That's different." Matthew says finally, and Gilbert laughs. _At_ him specifically, so Matthew swivels the chair to face away from Gilbert and tells him to be quiet.

"So where do you want to start then?" he asks, Reading the marking scheme. "Wanna split up what we're gonna talk about?"

"Yeah sure," Gilbert replies. "Can we dress in togas and laurels? We can use bed sheets for our toga and I know Ludwig's got some wreath head thingy from a middle school production."

"Why? And weren't togas and laurels Roman or Greek?"

"Well the Egyptians weren't _naked_. Though I think it would make for a much more awesome presentation if they were."

Something starts slowly turning Matthew around on his chair, and Matthew comes face to face with a dangling Kumajiro and a grinning Gilbert.

"How long's your mom out for?" he asks, dropping the cat on Matthew's lap. Kumajiro crawls off Matthew's lap and scurries off, not wanting to be subject to the two boys any more.

"Uh..." Matthew's mother had actually called in the middle of one of the games earlier on, and Alfred had answered the phone. He thinks he can pull off talking like Matthew rather well, and everyone else but Matthew thought it was hilarious as he told Ms. Williams that he loved her in between every other sentence.

She had also told when she would be coming home, which would be tomorrow morning. It evokes unwanted images every time he thinks about it because he knows that she's out with Rupert and that's just disgusting on eight different levels.

Matthew weighs his options on whether he should tell Gilbert the truth or tell him that he's only got till eleven or twelve so that they can actually get work done and stop getting continuously distracted.

"Eleven-thirty." He answers, looking up at Gilbert, whose grin grows even larger.

"Awesome," Gilbert leans in, putting his hands on the back of the chair. "We have time."

Matthew's about to ask for what, but it's pretty obvious as he's suddenly getting a full-fledged kiss.

"Hey," He tries to say as Gilbert redirects to his jaw line. "We need to get this done."

"We will, just after we— oh _shit_." Gilbert swears in that pause between where he's still trying to lay some moves on Matthew and where he leans on the chair a bit too much and sends it backwards. He loses his balance and falls forward, and the speed of his descent and the chair's travel back leads to Matthew's crotch being a cushion for his head.

Instead of being a funny situation that leads to some quirky teenage romantic thing as Gilbert groans, Matthew gasps in utter pain as he's completely crushed by the force of his boyfriend's head.

"Mighty fuck," He gasps, trying to pull off Gilbert by his hair and feeling. "_Dude_."

Gilbert seems to take the hair tugging the wrong way as he mutters a, "Matt, I don't think this is time for a blowjob."

"No...No man, you're hurting me..." Matthew wheezes as the pain starts to ebb away _very_ slowly. "Shit."

Gilbert finally gains half a mind to shift his head off Matthew's more sensitive parts. He props his chin up on Matthew's left thigh and looks at him.

"It could have been worse," He offers. "This one time I accidentally elbowed Roderich there with a lot of force."

Matthew makes a face, not wanting to imagine the pain. "And how did you manage that?"

"Well, we were sitting on a park bench, right? Just after he and I 'broke up'. I was just awesomely third wheeling as he and Elizabeta confessed their love and some other strange things, and I wanted to give him a congratulatory high five. He was too busy sharing drool with Eliza so I decided to elbow him and," Gilbert raises his elbow and Matthew grabs it, not wanting a re-enactment. "I missed."

"Cruel," Matthew makes a shocked face. "Plain cruel."

"It's his fault I was there," Gilbert shrugs, sliding off Matthew's thigh and falling back cross-legged on the floor. "It was his idea to fake date, and it was his weird-ass idea that I be there when he asks Eliza out. So we could tell her the truth and stuff."

"Oh yeah," Matthew pulls up his legs and crosses them on his chair. "You guys fake dated? Why?"

"Long story." Gilbert says, pulling the legs of the chair to wheel Matthew closer.

"I have time," Matthew replies. "I'm curious."

"Really? Gilbert grins. Putting on a falsetto, he whines, "_Gilbert, we have a project to do! Gilbert, stop messing around! Gilbert, don't ask Alfred and Lars if they wanna sleep over! Gilbert!_"

"Screw off, I don't sound like that." Matthew laughs as Gilbert slowly starts spinning the seat of the chair. "I'm just curious, eh?"

"Fine, Ricky and I- Wait, why did you snort?"

"Nothing, go on."

"_Roderich _and I have known each other since we were practically born. Or since he was, since I'm a year older and whatever."

"You are?" Matthew knows he is, but he can't remember whether it was Gilbert himself who told him that, or Alfred, who liked to (and still likes to) feed creeper facts to Matthew about Gilbert.

"Yeah, didn't I tell you?"Got held back in kindergarten for being too awesome."

Oh yeah, Matthew remembers Gilbert telling him this just the other day. Except Ludwig had interjected and said it was because Gilbert was a crier and was held back for his own "emotional good". Gilbert's always bragging about kicking Ludwig's ass, but Matthew's sure that's been the only time he's done it when they're both past the age of thirteen.

"I remember. Go on."

"Well," Gilbert starts spinning the chair a little faster. "Roderich and I have known each other forever, meaning he tells me everything. Even though I don't want to hear it half the time. He told me once that he had a crush on Elizabeta. Had it in been any other scrawny, mole-y music geek I woulda laughed in their face, but Roderich in love is fucking annoying. So we, and by we I mean he, figured the best way to get her would be if him and I dated."

"Why?" Matthew frowns.

"First, because I'm sexy." Gilbert stops the seat from spinning right when Matthew is facing him, for dramatic effect. "But aside from the obvious, how well do you know Elizabeta?"

"Not very well...She's in my Math class and she hangs out with Kiku and Alfred sometimes."

"Alright, well. There's one thing you need to know about her, and that is that she loves gay love. She's always reading those comics... I don't know how the hell you pronounce them, but she loves them and Kiku always lends them to her."

"How does that relate?" Matthew asks, leaning forward slightly. Then it suddenly dawns upon him why. "Oh."

"Yeah." Gilbert nods. "Mr. I-have-a-90-average thought the best way to get her to be attracted to him or even notice him in the first place was to be gay."

"_Oh_."

"Yeah, so we ended up fake dating. It was hilarious because I'd make him hold my hand and kept asking for a kiss, but eventually he got fed up and spilled it to Eliza."

"What did she say?"

"Well, if I elbowed his balls while they were making out on a park bench, it's pretty obvious. His parental unit caught word about it though, and thought it was legit. Man," Gilbert gives one of those odd, hissing chuckles again. "I woulda paid so much to see the look on Mr. Edelstein's face when he heard his son was gay, even if it wasn't true."

Matthew can sort of empathize on that, because he too was shit scared when coming out to his mother. Though, she took it rather well for someone with a rather religious family upbringing. But then again, she had him when she was a teen so he supposes that has something to do with it.

"Well at least it worked out, right?" Matthew smiles for a grant total of five seconds before he catches the time on the small clock on his bedside table. "Oh shit man, we need to get to work."

"You wanted to hear the story," Gilbert starts spinning Matthew again. "Come on, we don't have to do _that _much work for this, do we?"

"We do..." Matthew sighs, and gets a small brainwave as the room spins. "Hey, want to call Sadiq and ask him how long his presentation will be? If they take long, then we don't need to go tomorrow."

"Take long? Dude, do you know how much Gupta talks?"

"...No?"

"He doesn't. That's probably why Natalia likes him. We'll be lucky if they go over ten minutes."

"Damn," Matthew curses. "Can we work now, then?"

The grumble and other unclassifiable noise is taken as an affirmative.

* * *

"Want some brownies?"

Matthew gives a bleary blink.

"Sorry?"

"Want a brownie?" Lars asks again. "I have some in my pocket."

Matthew decides not to question why brownies are being kept in pockets, and whether or not they're in an edible state.

"No thanks." He politely declines, stifling a yawn behind a hand.

Gilbert left at around one thirty last night, after they _finally _finished their project. Through hard work, perseverance, and constantly having to redirect their attention back to the task at hand, they finally managed to get something that would get them a somewhat decent mark. Though, they haven't gotten that visual component done yet.

Originally, the plan was to meet up at the beginning of lunch to work something out. Somehow, that's translated into Matthew and Gilbert chilling with Lars, Lovino, and Sadiq at the smoker's pit. Matthew's not quite sure how that happened, and he's frankly too tired to figure out.

"It's a good pick me up" Lars offers and Matthew shakes his head again.

"Good pick me up? Really, Lars?" Gilbert says flippantly. "Who goes to class high before a big presentation?"

Sadiq, Lovino, and Lars give him stares.

"Well actually," Sadiq starts but is interrupted.

"They're_ regular_ brownies, dumb ass." Lovino says, as if it is the most obvious thing. "Antonio baked them and Lars took them by force yesterday."

"It's because he said my hair makes me look like a Christmas tree."

"Really?" Gilbert eyes Lars over. "I guess it's true."

Lars rolls his eyes and blows smoke in Gilbert's face. "Fine. No brownies for you, asshole."

"Wait, if they're legit, I want some!" Gilbert insists and Lars scoffs.

"You had your chance."

"No fuck you, give me some." With lightning speed, Gilbert's hand shoots out and into Lars' pocket. "Gimme!"

"Get off me!" Lars says, holding his cigarette threateningly close to Gilbert's face as Gilbert sticks his tongue out. "Matt, get your dog off me!"

"Gilbert, we need to go..." Matthew tries, but Gilbert's still wrestling with Lars to get some brownies. "Gil, we only have fifteen minutes left and we need to work out what we're gonna do as a skit thing!"

"I told you, don't worry about—"

Lars, fed up that Matthew's not managed to get the greedy teen off of him, decides that head butting Gilbert's face is the next best way to get him off. Lovino makes no effort to hide his laughter, Sadiq looks away with a pained sort of smile, and Matthew has to stifle chuckles with his knuckles because Gilbert's shocked and Lars' self satisfied expressions are hilarious.

"Ow—! Fuck you, Lars van Dickwad!" Gilbert clutches at his nose. "So not awesome!"

"Is your nose okay?" Matthew asks, trying not to sound too amused as he moves Gilberts hand for inspection. Nothings bleeding, just a little red, so everything is assumed to be fine and intact. With the exception of Gilbert's ego of course.

Gilbert's cell phone chimes and he checks it for the latest text message. He frowns and makes a face at the phone before shoving it back into his pocket.

"Alright ladies and Matt, I gotta dip." he waves and sticks both his middle fingers in Lars' face before turning around to retreat back into the school building.

"Wait, Gilbert!" Matthew grabs his elbow to stop him. Gilbert looks at him over his shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"What about our project? We still don't have a skit or any visual thing!"

"Don't worry about it kid," Gilbert says, turning around and patting Matthew on the head. "I got this."

"But... Can I at least know?"

"Of course you can!" Gilbert hums, then nods. "During class."

"What!"

"Yup. Now shut your eyes. No, not you Matt." Gilbert orders the other three boys. "It's private time."

"The flying fuck?" Lovino scowls. "You can't just tell us to— oh, _real_ nice Beilschmidt, go ahead and ignore me and suck your boyfriend's face. Bastard."

"Alright, first," Gilbert pulls away from a slightly thrown off balance Matthew. "_Sucking face_ is for unskilled people like you and second, I fully warned all of you. It's your fault for not listening."

"It's your fault for being stupid," Lovino counters. "Weren't you saying you need to go? Why the hell are you still here?"

"Oh shit, yeah. Alright, well I'll see you later. And you," Gilbert steps forward to jab Lars in the chest. "You owe me food, stingy bastard."

With that, Matthew watches as Gilbert bounds away and ignores Matthew's calls to wait and just tell him what the hell is going on.

* * *

By the time the end of lunch rolls around, Matthew's nerves are slowly fraying as there is no sign of Gilbert. He's texted him, and all he's gotten as a reply is a "Don't worry about it". Sadiq, meanwhile, drags Matthew into class because Matthew's been standing there in front of it for the past couple of minutes and keeping an urgent eye out for Gilbert.

"You'll be fine," He assures, yawning as he slings his bag onto his desk. "Don't ya worry. And don't stand like that, it's creepy."

"I'll try." Matthew murmurs uncertainly.

He does worry, and he worries a lot as five minutes pass by, the class settles down, and there's still no sign of Gilbert. Sadiq and Gupta are called up to give their presentation on the Arab empire, and as predicted, the presentation takes a grand total of fifteen minutes and that includes a very brief and slightly awkward discussion period which goes severely off track until Vargas has to remind the class that they're talking about history and not what cultural restaurants they may have gone to over the weekend.

And then the moment arrives. The moment where Matthew Williams and Gilbert Beilschmidt are called up to give their presentations and the latter is still not in the room.

"Um..." Matthew nervously meets Vargas' expectant gaze, when he is asked where Gilbert is. "I'm not quite sure where he is."

Vargas hums, thinking for a minute before saying, "Well present your parts anyways. I saw him running past the class door shortly after class began. He gets a zero, you do your best."

"Oh...o-okay."

Now Matthew has to present an entire presentation in front of his lack luster history class without a partner. It's not that he's not used to talking in front of people, and he likes to pride himself on delivering well. It's just that his partner is not there which gets rid of a significant chunk of their presentation, his notes are a jumbled mess, his partner's not here, he's operating on low sleep, and Gilbert Beilschmidt is not in the room when he's supposed to be. He finds himself wondering, as he pulls his presentation up on the computer so it can be displayed on the overhead projector, if he needs to introduce himself in front of a group of people who probably only barely remember who he is.

He's trying to stall by taking some time to look for the presentation on his USB key, but an impatient cough from Vargas makes him speed things up. The presentation's up and he scans the look of his audience before he starts.

"Hello...um, I'm Matt..." He starts, voice unsure. "And I'm... uh, doing a presentation on, um, Egypt."

There is stone silence as everyone looks on with a blank face. Matthew catches Sadiq's eye, and Sadiq subtly points towards the door and flashes a thumbs up. It takes a lot for Matthew not to go "What?", and he plods on with his presentation, clicking the next slide.

"So Egypt...Egypt is located in Northern Africa. " He waves vaguely to the drop down screen. "And over five thousand years ago, a civilization was built along the river of the Nile, which runs through here."

This is where Gilbert is supposed to pick up for a couple of slides. Matthew looks to the door again and is _thankful as hell _to see Gilbert standing at the door, making faces through the glass.

And he's wearing a toga.

And there's that authentic looking palm fan from the drama room, but Matthew can't figure out whose holding it up and fanning Gilbert with it. Gilbert raises his finger and points to himself and then to Matthew. Matthew raises his eyebrows and nods, unsure of what exactly he's nodding for.

An extremely unhappy looking Ludwig opens the door, and he too is dressed in a toga.

"I have permission from my teacher to be here." He says curtly to Vargas, then adds on a, "But I wish I wasn't."

"Proceed," Vargas says, nodding and looking slightly curious as to what will happen next.

Gilbert does not merely enter the room; he sweeps in, with Peter Kirkland (who most likely does not have permission to be here) tagging behind him, fanning him with the fake palm leaf.

"Gilbert, I thought we decided to not-" Matthew begins, but is silenced by Gilbert as he raises his palm towards him.

"Silence," Gilbert commands. "Do not speak till it is your turn."

Matthew clamps his mouth shut, and the class ooh's. Ludwig closes the door, and comes up to Matthew with the laurel wreath that had been dug out of Matthew's closet last night.

"Good luck." he mutters, placing it on top of a bewildered Matthew's head. "I mean it."

Ludwig then marches straight out of the room, even after Gilbert mutters a "You're supposed to stay longer, douchebag!"

Matthew assumes that the best choice right now is to just go with the flow, so he straightens up and hopes the expression of being shocked and a little perturbed is gone. He'll just duke it out, and hope that this will end quickly.

With Peter still fanning him, Gilbert turns to fully face and address the class.

"Lady folk, gentlemen, plebeians..." Gilbert says in a booming voice, turning to frown at the class. "Just plebeians. Anyways, we are here to educate you on this extremely badass and very majestic ancient civilization..."

Really, _really_ quickly.

* * *

And that brings us to our end, folks!

ANYWAYS, thanks for all the support guys! though I'm stupid and didn't reply to all of the reviews, every single one of them is loved a whole ton! Shout outs to everyone who helped me catch multiple spelling/grammar/other mistakes, always appreciated. It's turned out much different than I had originally intended it (and I'm pretty sure the prompt) and hopefully all major loose ends are tied up. To everyone who's reviewed, alerted, favourited, supported and read;** thank you _very very _much :D**


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